Night 1 - Nan's Kitchen

Barrington pulls up the collar of his trenchcoat against the wind and rain, stuffs his fedora on his head and moves quickly across the street through the foul weather, pushing his way into Nan's Kitchen.

"Hey Rosa!" he says as he steps into the diner (as part of the theatre and entertainer world here in town, he comes in here often. He's a charming handsome chap, and gets on well with all the staff).

"Good to see you - you're looking swell!" and Barrington twinkles a smile at Rosa.

"I'd take booth at the back, please, somewhere a bit quieter - I'm expecting company."

And Barrington follows Rosa to the booth she indicates, settling in against the wall after he's taken off his wet hat and trenchcoat - hoping he'll be joined by some of the other people he just encountered by Harold's office.

After being rushed out of the theater, John suggests to Idella that they meet up with the others at the dinner. John could use a cup of coffee and a moment to discuss this evening.

Yuna, having received the surprise invitation to the diner as she fled the theatre, agrees to join.

As she takes her place in the booth, she dutifully pulls out her notepad and pencil. "I can't stay long," she insists, "I have a morning appointment I must make. Before we get on further, I'd like you all to know I am an investigative journalist, hired to look into the disappearance of Harold's mentor. Unless you specify otherwise, anything we discuss may be on the record.

"Now, I noticed you two - " she gestures at John and Idella, "-with the fiancée. I assume you're friends? How are you all connected to Harold?"

She isn't unfriendly, per se, but it is clear she considers this a business opportunity, not a social event.

"Then perhaps we ought to specify that this is all off the record in that case." Charles says, clearing his throat as he takes his place in the booth.

He had hurried across the street, hot on the heels of this reporter, once they had been led out of the theatre. He didn’t need his name in black and white attesting to certain things that were best remaining unknown.

"I can’t say that I know the man at all. I was sent simply to take a look at his show, and determine its… value; if that’s the word to use.

I’ve done as much, and have a lot to report back, I must say. While I haven’t convinced you of it yet, we could still take a look for ourselves later this evening." he says, indicating the now locked up theatre with his finger.

Idella was interested in knowing more about what everyone else seemed to think was more of an instance of mysterious magic than it was a tragic accident. It helped that John seemed interested too. If he thought something about it then it must not be too crazy.


"I.. Um.. Yeah, we know them personally." Idella begins to say more but thinks better of it after Mr. Wilde states everything off the record.

Yuna sighs and purses her lips, but sets her pencil down and closes her notebook. "Off the record, then, but I may ask for private interviews later, if you may be so willing. I'm not looking for a hit piece, nor am I meaning to focus on Harold necessarily. This isn't personal, but the strangeness of this evening warrants conversation, at least. Whatever is said at this table tonight will not be quoted in my work.

"I've offered you my name and have been clear about what I'm doing here. You two -" gestures at Charles and Barrington, "-I surmise may be rival magicians, though correct me if I'm wrong. And you two-" she gestures at Idella and John, "-say you know Harold and his fiancee personally. It strikes me, I don't think I caught any of your names."

She watches them expectantly, her gaze hawkish.

"Idella, friend of Ingrid Schwartz." She states flatly. "We met a few years ago while I was in town. I don't know her fiancé, though. Tonight was going to be our introduction."

"Well, I don’t know if I’d be considered a rival. Stage work is a young man’s game. We do travel in similar circles, I will say that much.

I have given the assistant my card. With any luck, she will call me before long and you might work that into your account. I doubt she’ll be up to the task before you go to print, regrettably!"

Yuna smiles and orders an omelette and fresh fruit on the side. "Thank you, Rose," she says with smile, handing the menu over to the server.

Idella smiles at Rose. "I'm not too hungry just now, how about just a cup of coffee?"

"Same for me, Thanks."

"The Special." the man says, with a satisfied smile.

"A full belly does wonders to steady a hand, don’t you think? Now… Why might an investigative reporter, such as yourself, be interested in a stage performance such as this. It doesn’t strike me as particularly compelling.

It is of course. But not to the average reader, I imagine."

Yuna holds up her fork, a small piece of melon speared on the end. "I was hired. My interest is money first, morbid curiosity second, Mr. ...?"

"I think you’ll find my name among your notes." he says with a chuckle. He had given her his name inside the theatre. He thought, but didn’t say, a wry comment about her investigative chops, before continuing.

"No matter. It’s been an exercising night for us all. Charles Wilde. No relation to…" he starts up his spiel about Oscar Wilde again, before stopping, sure that it would jog her memory!

"Money. The great motivator, and my own motivation as well. Still… if I could just examine that box…"

"Forget the money of it, what about the danger?" Idella's voice betrays equals parts fear and excitement at the potential.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Wilde, that's right. What is it about that box that has you so interested, Mr. Wilde?"

"And danger, Ms. Brown? Do you have reason to believe the assistant may be a sign of things to come? or connected to the disappearance of Memphis the Great in some way?"

Idella stammers a moment and then replies. "No, nothing like that. It just seems like something about that act went badly wrong tonight. With Mr. Wilde wanting to investigate the boxes further, I just thought that whatever went wrong might still be wrong there."

"Do you think the equipment was to blame for the accident?" she asks, a worried look in her face as she asks for Charles's thoughts on that matter.

"It's either the equipment or the performance. Something mechanical failed or someone missed a cue. That's the thing about shows, they're rehearsed many times to make sure it goes right once on stage. Idella practices her 'stunt' flying over and over before going up to do a show." John seems confident he's making the right association between the flying shows and a 'magic' show.

"Mhm," Yuna says nodding, "of course. Well, I won't pretend to know the first thing about shows like this, but that makes sense. Have other accidents like this happened with Harold's act before? Any other accidents you've heard about?"

"Danger? Oh, I expect so, yes!" Charles says, with a disarming wink. You need to let people hear what they want to hear sometimes, especially if they were to be moved to action. It just so happened that this time, it was also the truth.

"The artifact itself is immensely dangerous, purely for the purpose it fulfills. But quite beside all that is the fact that these things come at a price, you see.

Magic, real magic, if you’ll entertain the fiction for a moment, has a price. You’ve heard tales of great sacrifice, willing or unwilling, I’m sure. Most often the price for great feats of magic is… blood."

Yuna sits back in her chair and eyes Charles carefully, considering his words. Even if 'real magic' was a fiction, which she was surely convinced it was, she knew all too well the lengths someone might go through to entertain a fiction, if they believed in it well enough. "I suppose the question, then, would be how did Harold come by such a thing," she says finally.

Barrington sparkles his smile at Rosa and orders himself Nan's Kitchen's famous waffles and chicken, together with a mug of coffee - some fat, some sugar, some caffeine to help him through this rainy, eventful evening.

"What is this talk of "real" magic, Mr Wilde? I was watching Harold's show carefully - as one magician to another - and it felt... off... I couldn't understand how Harold was able to do these things, and that shouldn't happen".

"You see, Ms Yuna, I too wouldn't say Harold and I are RIVAL magicians. You might be surprised, but we magicians are a pretty sociable friendly lot. We may keep our secrets within our circle, but between ourselves we enjoy telling each other, explaining, how we make our magic work. It almost never happens that I see a trick and don't understand the illusions involved in making it happen. But I did not understand what happened this evening!"

"So I'm here because I'm worried about what's going on with my colleagues Harold and Memphis the Great. And if they're in trouble, I want to help them out."

"So, Mr Wilde, what are these dangers you're talking about? What do you think might have happened to Harold, to Memphis?"

"I can respect that, Mr. Van Ness," Yuna says, "and find myself now even more curious to find some answers to those same questions."

She looks to Charles, awaiting an answer.

"If we can answer to question of how Harold sourced the artifact, we shall have some very dangerous information indeed!

Dangerous information concerning dangerous people. You won’t find these artifacts just anywhere.

You’ve heard of ‘cults’, I assume. Satanic cults, of course. But there are cults worse than that, believe me. It might be that Harold has fallen in with such rogues.

Or, he could be their unwitting tool. Did he seem the cult sort? They often don’t, you understand. By design…"

After taking several sips of unusually-good tea - a taste Barrington picked up in his time over in Europe during The Great War - he speaks up:

"As I think you know, sir, all five of us here were at Harold's performance last night - that we saw Ingrid while we were there - and that the evening was beset by strange unexplained occurrences."

"While there, I couldn't help but notice a lot of tension between Harold and Ingrid, more than I would have expected from just the evening's incidents."

"With Harold, Ingrid, Memphis the Great, and us somehow all tied together with things now - and as we were invited here at the request of Ingrid, would she be available to meet us, to fill us in on recent events? Whether she could give us some information on any recent strange behaviour or happenings around her, Harold, or Memphis the Great?"