[IC] Act One: Savannah

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Apr 9, 2025 1:24 am
Savannah, Georgia. 27 May 1937

The day starts quite pleasantly, the mist off the Savannah river providing a cool shade from the sun, but within half an hour of you all rising, the sun has burned its way through the mist and is subjecting you to the twin horrors of heat and humidity. On her way to meet the others, Lillian stops off to buy some essentials, food, and a portable gas stove - perfect for a picnic in some out of the way spot where the three are unlikely to be bothered by any of the local Klan affiliates.

https://i.ibb.co/nMmkn2Gm/image.png

In the daytime, Savannah reveals its fading grandeur; antebellum buildings that haven't seen much upkeep, newer buildings near the hotels that haven't used the same quality of materials, and cobbles and weeds peeking through the asphalt of the city roads. As the three of you meet up at the library, the humid stink of the river finds you, and clings to you, a cloying taste in your mouths a reminder of what once provided the lifeblood of the city, now in its last days with no other signs of industry to replace the shipbuilding trade that once reigned here.

https://i.ibb.co/1fLDcwRh/image.png

The library itself is quite large, and Dr Walker soon finds an eager research assistant in the form of a middle aged librarian who points him in the direction of local archives. The library itself is in the same building as the offices of the Savannah Morning News and Evening Press, one of the local newspapers. There's precious little, at least in recent years, about the Henslowe name - the only thing that Dr Weston can find concerning Douglas Henslowe is a record of his birth announced in the local press in the society section, back in 1882. He also finds that the Henslowe estate (at about 13 miles to the southeast of Savannah itself in a rural area) is at 23 Old Hope Road, and the current owner is listed as "Virginia Henslowe." It seems the estate was built in 1801 on land owned by the Henslowes, and was run as a plantation for many years, covering a large part of what's known as the Moss Island Peninsula - so called because with heavy rain, the peninsula often effectively becomes an island - but that most of the land has been sold off over the years, leaving only a small remnant left to the family. Dr Weston also finds a map of Savannah and Environs, and marks the location of the estate on it.

https://i.ibb.co/fGNHcHt2/savannah-area-map.jpg

He also finds out that the other address - 513 West Henry Street - is, as he guessed, a sanitorium, the Joy Grove Sanitorium. Its head, Dr Lawrence Teake, is said to be retiring soon, and his protege, Dr Jonathan Keaton, is expected to replace him when he does.
OOC:
Incidentally, Savannah's libraries were also segregated (the Carnegie Library in Savannah catered to the city's black residents), but rather than hammer home the point about the racism in the city at every opportunity, we can let some parts of the rather horrible history of the southern states alone; I think the segregated hotels are enough to make that point.
Apr 9, 2025 7:03 am
Sharing and commenting his findings with his companions, Gabriel says "it is the opposite of what I initially suspected: the property out of town is the family estate, while the Henry Street address is the sanatorium. Henslowe wrote most of his letters from the sanatorium... with a brief period in 1933 where he wrote from what must have been home... By 1934, he was back at the sanatorium."
OOC:
I take it Gabriel hasn't heard in his profession of either Dr L. Teake or Dr J. Keaton?
Apr 9, 2025 2:34 pm
Lillian had assisted fetching and refiling as Dr. Walker worked the best she could, but she was also looking for anything in the newspapers about an unusual number of missing persons around that fateful August '24.
OOC:
Dice rolled for Archival Research, but with no actual skill in it.
Lillian updates her own notes with Dr. Walker's research, "Perhaps taking a look at the family estate should coincide with lunch. Away from this stretch of the river," she adds, pulling a slight comic face.

Rolls

Academic 3 + Archival Research 0 - (3d6)

(625) = 13

Apr 9, 2025 5:09 pm
Lillian scours the newspaper records, but finds little in August 1924 about missing persons, whether unusual or not. Whatever happened in 1924, either it didn't make the news here for some reason, or happened elsewhere.
Apr 9, 2025 5:16 pm
"I'm not a lot of help here, I'm afraid. I can certainly carry things for you though, Doc," Sam says apologetically. "Same goes for you, Mrs. Blakely. Just tell me what you need me to go get."

That being said, Samuel does keep an eye out for anyone who seems interested in their group. His primary role was to maintain security, and he fully intended to carry out his duties.

As much as the humidity of the location is punishing, knowing it would change nothing the Marine doesn't even bother to complain. He unbuttons his top button and adjusts his collar as he carries documents for those far better suited to research and academia in general.
Apr 9, 2025 5:41 pm
Samuel keeps an eye out on the surrounding scholars, librarians, and readers, but other than the occasional sour look at the sight of Lillian in the place, no-one seems to be inordinately interested in what you're doing. Most have their own noses firmly ensconced in books and haven't even registered that there's anyone else in the place, it seems.
Apr 9, 2025 7:26 pm
OOC:
rolling

Rolls

Perception Psychoanalysis - (8d6)

(44155514) = 29

Apr 10, 2025 6:33 pm
OOC:
if there is still time for library research Gabriel will look up Dr Teake and Dr Keaton in specialised Psychiatry journals, to see what they have worked on, particularly the former being near retirement. Any academic papers or case studies... But we might be out of time for today's researching
Apr 11, 2025 2:10 am
There's nothing that you can find about them other than the previous report - that last Psychoanalysis roll was for either knowing them (would have required 2 successes), or knowing anything about their work (1 success).


Where to now?
Apr 13, 2025 4:22 pm
"Well... I think it is time to pay the Henslowes a visit at their estate out of town. Feel like driving, Mr. Weston?"
Apr 14, 2025 3:09 pm
"Of course. It's the least I can do, Doctor."

Once everyone has gotten in, Sam will fire up the car and begin heading out of town towards the Henslowe estate. As he drives, he generally stays pretty quiet. However, as they get close to the destination, he does speak up.

"Just so it has been said aloud, once we contact the Henslowes we won't be operating unknown in the area any longer. While I would like to believe we won't be in any danger, we cannot be certain."
Apr 15, 2025 6:47 pm
It's midday when you leave the library and head for the car. Driving through the streets of Savannah you pass many old stone buildings, often moss- and ivy-covered, with iron railings standing on guard like ragged swords or teeth protecting their inhabitants, though judging from the several broken or boarded up windows that you see, not all of the buildings have (legitimate) dwellers within.

https://i.ibb.co/ymCvkDrY/image.png

It takes a good ten minutes before you start to leave the confines of the city - driving past West Henry Street, you notice, a nice enough neighbourhood of old Victorian buildings in the main from what you see - and edge into the more rural parts of Savannah and the surrounding countryside. Here, the buildings are much sparser, older, and in many cases, even more dilapidated - those you can see, at least, since many are plantation houses set well back from the road behind uninviting and formidable walls, almost all covered with more Spanish moss and ivy. The tree-lined roads that you travel on - which get worse as you go further, eventually becoming dirt tracks with ruts formed where mud has dried - hang with more Spanish moss, which blot out the sun but don't make it any less humid; you're all sweating within minutes of getting in the car.

https://i.ibb.co/1tYJ12b6/image.png

Everything is wet and still, as if the trees themselves were sweating. The road is made of red clay, which has a distinct aroma, and which clings to the tires as you drive. The sides of the road are a morass of trees, moss, and swamp-like soft ground, and the air is abuzz with biting gnats, their tiny mouths searching for any patch of skin available fot them to feast on.

After a half hour or so, in which you get turned around a couple of times, and miss turnings which are hardly distinguishable from bare patches of clay rather than the roads they purport to be, you arrive at the Henslowe Estate. Like many of the buildings you'd driven past, this one is hidden from sight behind tall walls - build in a time when keeping inhabitants in against their will was the norm, rather than keeping visitors out, but now perhaps doing the latter rather than the former - at least six foot high, capped with wrought-iron spikes. Large wrought-iron gates stand closed; behind them you espy more of the same as outside - trees covered with Spanish moss, a clay road that leads out of sight, and the stench of swampland, brackish water, and rotting wood. By the gates is a bell and clapper attached to a chain. You can't tell when the last time the gates were opened, but you're guessing it's been a while.

https://i.ibb.co/ycr4CSsB/Untitled.jpg
Apr 15, 2025 9:01 pm
"A lack of fresh air seems to be a real problem in this city," Lillian says in her deeper Harlem accent.

"This place is really creepy!"
Apr 15, 2025 9:25 pm
"Can't disagree, on both accounts," he replies, getting off the car and immediately embraced by the sticky, oppressive air.

"Glad you were driving, Mr. Weston. I would have got us stranded down some of those muddy backroads..."

He looks at the bell, and at the unkempt aspect of the property. "It doesn't look like someone lives here... let's try ringing. Virginia Henslowe was the registered owner we found. Let's see..."

He pulls the chain with brio.
Apr 16, 2025 1:16 am
The bell clangs loudly and repeatedly, eventually the ringing dying away in the still, hot air. Minutes pass, the only sound the constant buzzing of insects that try to eat you alive, nipping at you with their tiny teeth, and you're about to give up on there being anyone here, when you hear the sound of something - or rather, somethings - heading your way. Curious, you wait, and after another minute or so, a man appears, three very large dogs (you'd guess at least part mastiff, but the other thing crossed with them must have been bigger than a mastiff) by his side which each give you looks that suggest if the gate wasn't there, you'd be their next meal. The man is fairly old - you'd estimate in his 60s at least - with a grizzled, unkempt beard and hair that hasn't seen the interior of a barber's in quite some time. His clothing is distressed but hard-wearing, and judging from the aroma, even at this distance, hasn't been washed anytime recently. Under his arm is a shotgun, double barrelled, pointing down.

Carruthers


"Visitors ain't welcome" he says in a southern drawl, his voice harsh and rough, like he's been existing on coffee, whiskey, and cigarettes for half his life. As he speaks, his words filter out through the several remaining teeth that he still has. "An' I know you ain't invited, cause we ain't invited you."
Apr 16, 2025 1:02 pm
Taken aback, and uncertain if he is more worried about the three dogs or the shotgun, he ponders his response.

Remember your violent patients. Don't contradict them.

"We all... agree on that, mister. But, tell us... how does one get invited, if one wants to speak to Virginia Henslowe... about her brother, Douglas?"

He observes the man's reaction at the mention of each of those names.
OOC:
leaving a Psychology roll if applicable

Rolls

Social, Psychology - (6d6)

(432134) = 17

Apr 16, 2025 1:33 pm
Carruthers
"Mother Henslowe ain't takin' visitors. If'n you wanna see Mr Henslowe, you'll want to visit Joy Grove, that's where he's livin' now. An' he ain't her brother, he's her son. You wanna try to talk some sense into that poor boy's head, you try him there."

The man walks off, away from the gates, while the dogs stand on the other side watching you.
Apr 16, 2025 1:58 pm
"We're trying to figure out what happened, that made him lose his sense in the first place. If he's as bad as it sounds, he won't be able to tell us. Mrs. Henslowe might have insight... and you might as well," Samuel calls out. "If she isn't taking guests, perhaps you'd be willing to help instead?"
OOC:
Persuade seems the most fitting. It's just an appeal to the man's good nature, to try and help Douglas.

Rolls

Social - Persuade - (3d6)

(356) = 14

Apr 16, 2025 2:07 pm
Carruthers
"Old Mother Henslowe don't know what got into him, and neither do I. You wanna know what's wrong with him, you go and see him and ask him yourself. See what you're getting yourself into."

His voice trails off as he goes wherever he's going. Looks like that conversation is at an end.

One of the dogs slopes off after him, the other two stand and watch you.
Apr 16, 2025 2:28 pm
Turning to his companions, Sam asks the obvious question... "So then... do we believe him? About them not knowing I mean?"
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