ariosto
Celestial Navigator
- Joined
- May 19, 2001
- Posts
- 5,961
The Shadow XXX!
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
The SHADOW knows!....(thanks Indigo for reminding me)
This will begin as a closed thread for Annabellee and myself. More players may be added as the story develops.
OOC:
Lamar Cranston, near-do-well scion of a fantastically rich family of New York nabobs, had lived the kind of wild and licentious life that many would have envied during the hedonistic ‘roaring twenties’. Then came the great crash and in the face of the rapidly vanishing Cranston fortune, his mother and father took the easy way out and both were found dead on a chilly January morning in their Park Avenue penthouse.
Young Cranston rushed home from his sybaritic life as a Yale grad student to bury his parents and consolidate what was left of the dynasty’s millions.
There wasn’t much.
Seeing first hand what avarice could come to and facing the gray hopeless landscape of the deepening depression, Lamar underwent an epiphany of sorts. He sold everything that was left and journeyed to the Far East to seek enlightenment, free from the fetters of materialism.
He all but disappeared for five long years.
When he returned it was with a burning drive to fight greed and injustice, violence and crime. He had with him a powerful, no an unbelievable weapon, for in those years so far from home he had learned to MAKE HIMSELF INVISIBLE!
Incredible as it seems we can hear first hand the testimony of Cranston’s long time friend and fiancé Margot Lane;
"When Lamar pawned our engagement ring and disappeared I was devastated. I gave up my act at Minsky’s (Miss Lane was a headliner in the Exotic Dance department) and decided to go back to school.
I was working on my PHD at Vassar in Criminal Justice and engaged to Senator Buddy Frisch when Lamar returned one night VERY unexpectedly.
The Senator and I had just finished…uhhhh...
Well we had just finished.
And I was standing in my kitchen wearing my big terry cloth robe, the dusky rose one, when all of a sudden I felt warm hands on my body, just all over the place, and then my gown was jerked off and I screamed because nobody was there!
The Senator came running into the room and here I am, spread out across the kitchen table like a hot cross bun!
Then I hear a voice in my ear…”It’s me, Margot…Lamar.”
And I feel something slip on my finger and it’s …it’s the engagement ring!"
(Miss Lane pauses to wipe tears from her eyes, and catches her breath.)
"Well, next thing you know, there he is in the flesh, lying right on top of me. Poor Senator Frisch, keeled over right there with a heart attack. You can read it in the papers.
Anyway Lamar and I have been together ever since.
And together they stayed, through the halcyon days of heady success as the Nation’s top crime fighting duo, breaking up gangs of racketeers, racks of gangsters, white slavery rings and bringing murderers, arsonists, thieves, pickpockets and jaywalkers to the scales of justice with almost supernatural ease. It was all too wonderful to last!
And it didn’t.
Lamar’s dependence on booze increased in step with his own success.
Margot tried repeatedly to warn him that a crash was coming and when it did it fell like a sledgehammer!
THE SHADOW CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE COUNTS OF INDECENT EXPOSURE!
The headline read.
In order to exercise his arcane skill of invisibility it was necessary for Cranston to be naked. But when in his cups, four sheets to the wind and snockered so to speak, he often was unable to hold to his shadowy cloak and increasingly embarrassing exposures of his nude and often tumescent 'privates' began to multiply, finally coming to a head in Jean Harlow’s dressing room, where Lamar had no business at all.
A year in the slammer cured him of the drinking habit but didn’t rehabilitate him in the eyes of a disillusioned public. When he was released all that was left was his tattered ‘gift’ and the ever loyal Margot Lane.
Opening a storefront private investigation service on the seedy lower east side , they began the slow process of recovery. Handling two bit divorce cases for the most part, for with Cranston’s skill, he was hard to beat in the adultery department.
IC:
He was sitting at his desk one cold Sunday morning, his worn shoes propped up, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand when Margot burst in.
It was amazing that she still looked like the girl he’d met fifteen years ago. Jean Harlow was nothing compared to her…
“Lamar!…have you heard the news?!
The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!”
She was brimming over with excitement.
“I’m too old to enlist baby and I don’t think I’d look good in khaki’s”
She stamped her foot.
“No! Don’t you see? This could be our ticket back to the Big Time!”
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
The SHADOW knows!....(thanks Indigo for reminding me)
This will begin as a closed thread for Annabellee and myself. More players may be added as the story develops.
OOC:
Lamar Cranston, near-do-well scion of a fantastically rich family of New York nabobs, had lived the kind of wild and licentious life that many would have envied during the hedonistic ‘roaring twenties’. Then came the great crash and in the face of the rapidly vanishing Cranston fortune, his mother and father took the easy way out and both were found dead on a chilly January morning in their Park Avenue penthouse.
Young Cranston rushed home from his sybaritic life as a Yale grad student to bury his parents and consolidate what was left of the dynasty’s millions.
There wasn’t much.
Seeing first hand what avarice could come to and facing the gray hopeless landscape of the deepening depression, Lamar underwent an epiphany of sorts. He sold everything that was left and journeyed to the Far East to seek enlightenment, free from the fetters of materialism.
He all but disappeared for five long years.
When he returned it was with a burning drive to fight greed and injustice, violence and crime. He had with him a powerful, no an unbelievable weapon, for in those years so far from home he had learned to MAKE HIMSELF INVISIBLE!
Incredible as it seems we can hear first hand the testimony of Cranston’s long time friend and fiancé Margot Lane;
"When Lamar pawned our engagement ring and disappeared I was devastated. I gave up my act at Minsky’s (Miss Lane was a headliner in the Exotic Dance department) and decided to go back to school.
I was working on my PHD at Vassar in Criminal Justice and engaged to Senator Buddy Frisch when Lamar returned one night VERY unexpectedly.
The Senator and I had just finished…uhhhh...
Well we had just finished.
And I was standing in my kitchen wearing my big terry cloth robe, the dusky rose one, when all of a sudden I felt warm hands on my body, just all over the place, and then my gown was jerked off and I screamed because nobody was there!
The Senator came running into the room and here I am, spread out across the kitchen table like a hot cross bun!
Then I hear a voice in my ear…”It’s me, Margot…Lamar.”
And I feel something slip on my finger and it’s …it’s the engagement ring!"
(Miss Lane pauses to wipe tears from her eyes, and catches her breath.)
"Well, next thing you know, there he is in the flesh, lying right on top of me. Poor Senator Frisch, keeled over right there with a heart attack. You can read it in the papers.
Anyway Lamar and I have been together ever since.
And together they stayed, through the halcyon days of heady success as the Nation’s top crime fighting duo, breaking up gangs of racketeers, racks of gangsters, white slavery rings and bringing murderers, arsonists, thieves, pickpockets and jaywalkers to the scales of justice with almost supernatural ease. It was all too wonderful to last!
And it didn’t.
Lamar’s dependence on booze increased in step with his own success.
Margot tried repeatedly to warn him that a crash was coming and when it did it fell like a sledgehammer!
THE SHADOW CONVICTED OF MULTIPLE COUNTS OF INDECENT EXPOSURE!
The headline read.
In order to exercise his arcane skill of invisibility it was necessary for Cranston to be naked. But when in his cups, four sheets to the wind and snockered so to speak, he often was unable to hold to his shadowy cloak and increasingly embarrassing exposures of his nude and often tumescent 'privates' began to multiply, finally coming to a head in Jean Harlow’s dressing room, where Lamar had no business at all.
A year in the slammer cured him of the drinking habit but didn’t rehabilitate him in the eyes of a disillusioned public. When he was released all that was left was his tattered ‘gift’ and the ever loyal Margot Lane.
Opening a storefront private investigation service on the seedy lower east side , they began the slow process of recovery. Handling two bit divorce cases for the most part, for with Cranston’s skill, he was hard to beat in the adultery department.
IC:
He was sitting at his desk one cold Sunday morning, his worn shoes propped up, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand when Margot burst in.
It was amazing that she still looked like the girl he’d met fifteen years ago. Jean Harlow was nothing compared to her…
“Lamar!…have you heard the news?!
The Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor!”
She was brimming over with excitement.
“I’m too old to enlist baby and I don’t think I’d look good in khaki’s”
She stamped her foot.
“No! Don’t you see? This could be our ticket back to the Big Time!”
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