The Turn of a Friendly Card (Closed for Casting Call)

[Justin_Tyme]

"Hurry, Hurry, Step right up... How bout you little lady?"

Justin watched the growing crowd with more than just a passing interest, while listening to the call of the carnival pitchman as he hawked his tickets. His voice not all that much different from the others at this years county fair, and yet it was as though this particular frontman belonged to another place in time. Watching from his shaded seat, on the back of an old buckboard, Justin became all the more curious as he realized, this little old salesman of snake oils, tonics and dreams, was not addressing everyone who passed his way, but seemed to be more or less interested in specific individuals. Glancing one last time at the day old newspaper, Justin felt sure that this horrid economic Depression would finally be brought to an end, with the "New Deal" The President had signed. Not only did the Times; the Tribune and The Star, carry the headlines, but every paper had something to say about it the world over. With that he folded it carefully and stuck it in the hip pocket of his well worn dungarees. Knowing it was now or never, Justin made sure he had the two-bits for admission in his hand, as he stepped out into the warm mid day sun and moved confidently towards the Midway.

"Hey Mister!" he shouted above the noise of the crowds, as he meandered across the crowded midway. His old boots stirred up small bits of dust, as he made his way towards the modest crowd who had gathered around to listen to the little man give his pitch. Justin felt the gaze of more than a few of them upon him now as the crafty eyes of the Frontman sized him up in an instant, saying. "How bout you sonny... Care to try your hand in the arena? Only a quarter, two-bits, a handful of pennies, just an ole plug nickle and a couple thin dimes, and you too can have a go at it... if you have the moxie."

Justin smiled inwardly as he ran his fingers quickly through the windblown natural curls of his sandy blonde mane. His boyish charm was all that betrayed his meager 19 years in this world, for though he came from good Midwestern stock, his years spent helping his family farm a piece of land better suited for use as one of the military's airplane factories, had indeed left him rugged and hardened. "Mister, I don't know much 'bout no Moxie, but I got your two-bits and then some." he said, reaching between his legs and grabbing the crotch of his faded jeans. He coyly flashed the folks now milling around, his most apologetic smile and he weaved his way between them, confident and unhurried.

A couple of the younger women blushed, and giggled at his action, while the rest of the fifteen or so fair goers expressed various shades of disapproval for such a brash gesture in public. "Son, you just bought yourself a seat." Said the grinning ticket man. As he accepted the coin in exchange for entrance, he held the youths gaze a moment longer than he intended saying in a low and grumbling voice; "listen up boy, you go through the opening in this tent, you mind your manners, hear?" Any semblance of a smile left the old mans face as he released the ticket to the strapping young man, repeating again the last words, "mind your manners."

With that in mind, Justin stepped through the opening of the canvas and felt momentarily out of place. As his eyes began to focus in the dim light within the tent, Justin found himself nearly toe to toe with a large, grizzled looking guy, whose breath nearly made him gag. The pungent odor smelled like the stench of too much garlic on too little meat, or a rancid pot of mutton stew. His very presence reminded him of one or two the doormen in the juke joints of the big city where he had spent more than one night forgetting the worries of the present day.

Except for the fact that this goliath of a man, who seemed to tower over him now, had vastly more body hair, fewer teeth, and something about him just didn't seem quite right, he could have passed for any one of a hundred henchman from his past. "Ticket little man." he said flatly. His voice was as deep and rumbling as any Justin had ever heard, but his accent was as unfamiliar to him as the sight which beheld him upon being ushered through a small, almost unseen slit in the dim, with the words, "No. You go here, dat one for da watchers, you not watch, you play." With a quick shove, he all but lost his balance before he could steady himself on one of the brightly painted main poles which to him, seemed to stretch upward until it could no longer be seen.

As Justin took a moment to get his bearings he turned to look behind him, to the point he was sure he had come into this place, but all he could make out was the dim of the canvas, painted in black and dotted with faded white specks, resembling a moonless night sky in the wee hours of the morning. His mind, momentarily at a loss to explain his current position was jarred back into the moment by a crashing sound in the distance of a hundred folding chairs being pulled on a handcart which had tipped over and landed one atop another. Justin turned towards the screeching voice of one of the Carnival Moms, obviously chastising the two stout helpers, but the language she was using was completely unfamiliar to him. As he moved a few steps towards the commotion his attention was drawn to the center of the tent. A large oval shape of flat earth, covered in what looked like a thin layer of sawdust, and surrounded completely by a wall easily measuring six feet in height, constructed entirely of what looked like childrens building blocks. As he moved through the slight opening, he found himself having to turn sideways and squeeze his solid six foot 3 inch body through the opening sideways.

Justin hadn't noticed the bleachers which surrounded the arena until he had taken a full 20 paces towards the middle of what he had come to know as a Circus Bit Top. "What the..." he thought to himself as he noticed that he was not alone, but there were others in this arena. A tall slender brunette stood at the far end of the arena, chattering on with a young couple about the price of something or other, as they all three looked at the section of wall where they were standing. Up to that point, Justin had not noticed that the individual blocks which made up the enclosure were individually painted with a single scene. Each one somehow melding and becoming the one next to it, yet each one was obviously different, not only in the place it depicted, but the style, and even the mood of the colors used to render the wonderful work of art. As he continued to make his way towards the Center of the Ring, he felt the familiar stirrings within his loins, which meant that somewhere close at hand, someone of the feminine sex was watching him in a way that caused his spine to tingle, and his jeans to require a quick 'readjustment' so as not to advertise to all those present his obvious state of arousal.

Having come almost halfway into the area, his attention was drawn to heart of the all too large expanse, and the scene unfolding there before his eyes. It was a woman seated at a large oval shaped table, not unlike the one he had used when his father helped him set up his first set of electric trains. As he drew closer the features of the woman began to become clearer, as well as the two young women who stood there listening intently to her soft voice. He could not make out the words being said, but before he could get any closer, one of the girls, began giggling uncontrollably as her friend tried to suppress a laugh of her own. Justin could not tell what it was that caused them to react in such a manner, but he was enjoying the obvious arousal of the adorable looking redhead as she turned to see him heading in their direction. His green eyes were instantly drawn to the cleavage created by the two buttons which had obviously popped off under the strain of her laughter. It was not so much the size of her obvious assets which caught his attention, or even the way her overly large areolas had contracted until they were the size of small cherry pits, but something in her eyes. The way she looked at him as he stopped dead in his tracks and just took it all in, told him that this spirited beauty, had more to her than simple looks, no, she had something intangible, almost ethereal about her. Her giggling subsided as she took in his entire form, stopping overly long to admire what even he could not hide in this dimly lit, aromatic tent, and catching herself just puffed out her chest and nodded towards the wall off to his right and then a voice broke the silence.

"My ohhhh my what have we here?" the older woman cooed from her seated position at what was obviously the head of the table. "Come come, we haven’t much time, come closer and let Mamma Jeffries get a good look at you." she said, in a sing-song voice. Justin moved over to where she sat, her long reddish brown hair, seemed tinged with silver, yet she could not be nearly that old. As he came to a halt directly in front of her, he was immediately confronted with the fact that the chair this woman dressed only in a white cotton shift and peasant blouse was unlike any he had ever laid eyes on. As she waited for him to finish taking it all in, she drew his eyes to hers, as she cleared her throat, and flashed him the largest, and most genuine smile he had ever seen. As she gazed deeply into his deep green eyes, he felt every care he had ever known simply fall away from him, and in that very moment, replaced by a heart so light it felt as if he would simply float away he let out a deep and hardy laugh. It seemed to echo through out the entirety of this great emptiness, and just as quickly he ceased to laugh as the moment passed and so too her smile. "You have a wonderful laugh dear boy, and my word you’re a big 'un" her words were followed by a giggle of her own as he realized her comment had less to do with his height and stature, and more to do with the youthful bulge which now threatened to tear through the fabric, or split the zipper which now seemed to be straining to keep his drawers closed and his private parts just that, private. Justin quickly stuck his hands in his pockets and focused his eyes someplace on the ground between his boots as he tried to fix himself into a less conspicuous show of excitement. It was then Mamma Jefferies reached down to the sides of the chair, and pulling one lever backwards and the other she pushed forward, the wheels ground into the dirt floor beneath her, and she was now facing the long wooden table.

Justin turned to watch her hands reach out to a small wooden box, and carefully dipping her hand into the open top she pulled out an intricately carved wooden chess pawn. It's color nearly matching the sandy curls he now found himself pushing towards the top of his head, away from his eyes. "Justins?" she remarked, almost offhandedly as she placed the piece on what he now understood to be a game board, and a very large game board at that. "Mam? How did you...?" his voice trailed off and was replaced by her commentary. "My brother had a pair just like them. Wore 'em till they were wore plum through." Justin felt his cheeks redden at the mistake, while she began to speak in tones as clear as a nightingale in full voice.

"Names are not nearly as important in the 'Game' my young friend, as the choices you make, and the actions you take. The rules are simple, but pay attention anyhow, I don't want you coming back saying you didn't understand." Before he could comment, she dismissed his speech with a wave of her hand, then pointing to the board. "The black bag there on the table is filled with small stones, get yourself one out and hand it to me." she pointed to the bag on the table out of reach. Justin leaned over and retrieved the bag, and reaching in pulled out a smooth, cool stone with a marking on it he had seen on some of the stones north of his grandmothers farm. Handing the stone to her she smiled at him and simply remarked, "Eoh. The Horse. Quite suits you indeed." she chuckled to herself as she laid it next to the chess pawn.

"Next, look over the cards there. This Game is known as The Turn of a Friendly Card, and I hope you pick just such a one." her words held a sort of mystery now, and she seemed to change before his very eyes. Somehow older, wiser perhaps. He thought it a trick of the lighting, or just the way she now sat so straight and tall in her mechanical chair. Justin reached out and hesitated once and then again before settling on his original card, and pulling it from the rest of the overly large deck fanned out face down, he turned it to look at his choice, and realized these were not normal cards like he had used a hundred times or more, either to win a pint of ale back home or the clothes off the girls who came and spent many nights with his sisters. No these cards had intricate pictures on them, each one appeared hand painted, and brilliant in color, yet, they were as worn as the soles of the boots he stood there in. Justin looked and there was indeed a number on the card. He stared almost dumbfounded at a zero. Handing it to the outstretched open hand of the grinning woman, again she let out a guffaw, as she remarked. "The Fool, again it suits you my young friend."

Before he could object she continued. "Many think the fool a card of the foolish. I say it is simply innocence, combined with wisdom beyond ones years. See the youth as he steps off the cliff, knapsack over his shoulder, and dog yapping at his heels. Perhaps, dog knows something he does not, or perhaps it is the other way around. We cannot know what is in his mind, anymore than we can know what is beyond our own field of vision. Youthful exuberance, and innocence are your personality traits as we begin the Game, and the sigil of the Horse, with its stamina and solid footing under even the worst of circumstances, these are the Traits of your Character."

After a quick breath she continued on saying; "The rest of the rules are simple enough my boy. When the time comes, each of you who have come to play the Game, will take your seats at the table marked by your stone and card. At that time. I will pass between you the Golden Chalice of Dreams, once around the table it will go, from which each player will take a goodly swallow and pass it to the next, until it has made its way back here to me.

Then, I will ask one last time if any wish to leave, after which I will toss the die onto the board and move the pieces to the square as many spaces as the die indicates. And each of you, using your newly acquired traits along with everything you already are, will solve amongst you the riddle of the square on which your pieces will remain until such time as you do." She paused a moment to take a breath before continuing.


"Once the square has been completed, the die will be cast again, until you complete one trip around the board, or until there is only one of you left in the game. At that time, you will either be declared The Champion of the Game, or the lot of you will each be rewarded according to the merits earned as you move around the board." She smiled again her genuine smile as she took in the lad once more as he looked at the board before him and nodded to her with one word, "Agreed." "Good Lad, now take some time to get acquainted with the others if you like, or simply wander a bit and look at the painted walls, they hold many secrets, and many more answers you will need in the game. Shoo now, and let Mamma Jeffries get her self ready for the rest who will come along to join you soon. "

Step Right Up - Get Your Ticket Here - Only Two-Bits...

Bruno Says 'No You Go Dat Way, wait your turn'...
Game in Progress - Casting Status: Open - Thread Status: Closed

 

[Justin_Tyme]

The Gathering - The Awakening (Open to Cast)

The Gathering

As he made his way around the players’ area, Justin admired the imagination and attention to detail in the various scenes which made up the surrounding wall. Placing his hand on the surface of the one he was in front of, he realized that there was something about these paintings that made them different, almost as if they were shifting, changing ever so slightly, the subtle shifts going undetected by the average onlooker. He shrugged off the eerie feeling as the air beneath the big top seemed to come alive with gentle breezes and whispers.

"Remarkable, don't you agree?"

Justin realized that he was so caught up in his own thoughts about the particular section of wall he stood in front of, that the approach of the woman now standing directly behind him went completely without notice. Slowly, almost reluctantly he pulled his hand away from the cool surface of carved and painted wood, while turning around to give his attention to the soft-spoken voice behind him while saying almost absent-mindedly, "uh huh... I mean, yea its almost like..."

Before he could complete his thoughts and put them into words, Justin found himself gazing into the softest brown eyes he had ever seen. Perhaps if he had realized that the voice was more a whisper than spoken, and that the warmth he felt a moment before on the side of his neck was actually the breath which carried the words, he might not have felt nearly as awkward when his arm brushed over the cotton covered breast of the woman belonging to the voice. As his mind tried to form a complete sentence from the thoughts and emotions he now felt, Justin caught the scent of lavender when he drew a breath to speak. Perhaps it was the girlish giggle, or the ever so faint flush in her cheeks, which caused him to stammer a bit as he began speaking.

"I... uh... yea, remarkable."

Justin felt the color drawing up into his own cheeks as her soft southern drawl brought him back to the present moment. How long had his gaze fallen to the generous cleavage he found himself looking down into he was not sure, as he looked again into her eyes hearing, "Jeanne." "I'm sorry... what's that you were saying?" he replied sheepishly. He watched her bottom lip quiver a moment as she bit into it ever so slightly, before giving him a coy look, followed by an enchanting smile, saying "My name... is Jeanne." He could not stop the curious flutter in the pit of his stomach as she took a half step back and extended her hand to him at his own introduction. Her delicate fingers felt soft within his grasp, her long nails grazing the sensitive skin of the inside of his wrist as she removed her hand from his saying, "Ya know, I had the strangest feeling we’ve met somewhere when I saw you come in." Her smile became bright and cheerful as he replied, "So did I, but... what with everything else..."

His voice trailed off as his attention was drawn to the sudden change in the lighting, where Mamma Jeffries sat at the large oval table speaking with a very tall man in a colorful red and white suit. Before Justin could say anything more, he felt both Jeanne's hands clutching his strong forearm as the lights went completely out, followed by different colored spotlights dancing about the center of the expanse as he heard the voice from the table saying...

"Come, Come children, gather round, it's time to take your seat..."

Justin felt the grip on his arm release as the lights came up in the center ring ever so slightly. Before he could take a step towards the table, Jeanne quickly stepped closer to him and slipped her arms around his waist. Laying her head momentarily on his chest she let out a barely audible sigh, which was followed by the sound of her sweet southern voice saying just above a whisper, "Good Luck."

The Chalice of Dreams

Justin took his seat, and watched curiously as the others found their own places at the table and did likewise. He felt a tingle run the length of his spine as the last of them found their card, and the woman at the head of the table began to speak, while filling a large silver goblet with what appeared to be an amber colored liquid, tinged with red.

As you all know, when you made the choice to take part in this game, each of you received a card, a rune and a bit of instruction..."

All eyes were fully on the woman who spoke from the head of the table now, a renewed sense of power seemed to fill her sing-song voice as she continued her speech, while setting the now empty decanter used to fill the Chalice somewhere just out of view. "Now that I have got you all together, I have a couple words of advice for you, which I will share, as we pass around the Chalice of Dreams." With that she passed her open palms over the opening at the top of the glimmering container, ever so slowly, back and forth, one over the top of the other, all the while speaking the words which sounded like something from a long forgotten Shakespearean play. As she finished she brought her cupped palms up to her face, and breathing deeply, blew into them while lifting her hands towards the sky, and spoke in a commanding tone "To thine own self be true."

Justin listened attentively to the various sounds emitted from the participants gathered round. Everything from oohhhs, and ahhhhs, to a "wow" and one sharply drawn breath reached his ears, as all watched a single white dove take flight from her outstretched hands. While most of those seated, sat watching the bird continue its ascent into the upper reaches of the darkened big top, Justin noticed that one player, the clean shaven G-Man, was not so easily taken in by the apparent showmanship the group had just witnessed. Justin watched him for another moment before returning his attention to Mamma Jeffries, as she took the first drink from the chalice. Her face became instantly flush, and her eyes seemed to sparkle brightly for a moment, before passing the Chalice carefully to the woman on her right saying, "As the Chalice is passed among you, I ask you once more, if any wish to leave the Game. If so, go now. For once you have partaken of the Chalice of Dreams, there is no turning back."

The Silver vessel felt cool in his grasp, as Justin raised the rim to his lips with both hands. The aroma of something akin to fresh cut fields of alfalfa, combined with the scent of honeysuckle and something else he couldn’t quite identify, reached his nostrils a split second before he drank deeply of the sweet nectar. Almost in the same instant as the liquid found its way past his tonsils, Justin felt himself beginning to flush from head to toe. He reeled as his entire body seemed to come to life, invigorated and infused with what felt like the very elements of heaven and earth themselves. Passing the Chalice to the only one who sat between him and Mamma Jeffries, his vision seemed to blur for an instant, before again becoming crystal clear. He saw past the man and woman who sat across the table from him, his eyes purposely being drawn to the dancing images of the surrounding wall. Excitedly, he watched while the spotlights now rotated intermittently, making their way around the entire enclosure, passing from one scene to the next, lighting it briefly and then continuing.

Although he never looked back at the woman who playfully shook the drained Silver goblet, the tinkling sounds coming from her direction made it clear that the dice which were once on the table, were now being shaken in preparation for the first roll. Feeling the world around him pulling him in every direction at once, he turned to look at Jeanne, as the one last word reached out and grabbed his attention... "Snake-Eyes!” and the arena went dark...

The Awakening

"Justin... Justin, are you alright?" Although slightly groggy, he recognized the sweet southern drawl as the voice belonging to the enchanting redhead with the doe brown eyes he was speaking with right before taking his seat at the table. "Wha... what happened?" he said. Justin groaned inwardly at the throbbing pain at the base of his skull, which seemed to keep time with the very beat of his heart. He was grateful for the cool hand slipped under the back of his neck, cradling his head gently when he at last he dared to open his eyes. "Your chair tipped over and you hit your head on the floor", came a deeper male voice from somewhere nearby. As his eyes began to focus, he recognized the face of the woman who was holding his head, but there was something very different about her now. Her hair was piled atop her head, like the pictures of old English school marms he had seen in grade school text books. Surely he would have noticed the intricately carved ivory, of the Cameo she now wore about her neck if it had been there before. This thought alone caused him to turn slightly, shifting his gaze to what he knew to be familiar territory, only to find that her thin cotton outfit had been replaced by the shimmering fabric of a forest green dress. It appeared to be made of a satin smooth material, hand sewn with expensive looking lace which made up the drastically sweeping neckline. He could not help but notice that the tops of her ample breasts were now fully visible to anyone who cared to look her way, this he could tell even from to his vantage point. With every breath they looked like they might flow right over the top of the garment itself if she were to lean over too far, or inhale deeply like she did when he had first laid eyes on her.

Justin closed his eyes a moment, wondering what manner of trickery they must be playing on him, when off in the distance, he heard a deep resounding Bell, "Bongggg Bongggg Bongggg" Someone to his left shyly stated, "it's 3:00 O’clock, that’s for sure, but if it's early morning, or afternoon I simply cant tell through all this fog." It was the older woman he had seen come in last who was speaking now, as he shook off the last bit of fog in his own head and tried to sit upright. Justin found himself being treated to one last squeeze, as his head was quickly guided to the bare buxom of this doe eyed belle, while flashing him a knowing grin, and gently nibbling at her bottom lip.

As Jeanne helped him find the cool stone floor with his one hand, he gladly gripped the outstretched forearm of his dark eyed male companion, and in a single fluid motion, Justin found himself once again standing firmly on solid ground. Standing there quietly for a long moment, the fair haired youth swayed from side to side, as if trying to balance himself against the dense, cool air which was now becoming visible to him, causing everything around him to become shrouded in the mist itself. Looking about him at his companions, he heard what sounded like the faint clickety clack of hoof beats on cobblestone, bringing with it a deep resonating voice which called out into the misty void, "its 3:00 O’clock and All's well..." The voice seemed to last only a moment and then, rather than fade out, or drift away, it simply vanished. "Damn, I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought, because if I didn’t know better I'd swear that we were all just sitting at a table together..." Justin began, but found he was quickly interrupted by the sound of a woman’s voice coming from just beyond their field of vision. It wasn't so much the words being spoken, but the accent which accompanied them. "Ello govnuh... Fancy a bit of company this morning dooo ya... c'mon lover, over 'ere with ya, that’s it, you jest tell miss Polly alllll about it..."

A couple of the younger women were now giggling amongst themselves as one of them said, "We better get inside, before we all catch our death of cold." Justin turned to see who was speaking, as the door was being pushed open to a large brownstone building. Doubtful he could get out a word one way or the other, he felt the familiar grasp of slender fingers, tugging at his calloused hand to follow. Together the small group moved quietly into the narrow entry which led into the larger main dwelling area. Instantly they were greeted by the smell of slowly burning cedar, as they took in the immediate surroundings. On the walls hung a few sparsely placed oil paintings, mostly of women, and mostly in various stages of undress. All of them seemed to be either watching or entertaining small winged children, also in various stages of undress.

On a small wooden table Justin noticed an oil lamp which emitted a faint, glowing light. It wasn't much as lights go, but he had lived with just such hurricane lamps as they were known to him on the farm as a small boy. His eyes became quickly accustomed to the low level lighting, enough so that he easily spotted what appeared to be a partially crumpled newspaper. Apparently it had fallen between the wall and one leg of the table which held the glowing lamp. Without a word he simply stopped all forward motion, and the next sound he heard was that of mild discomfort, bordering on pain... "Ouch! Justin, what are you?..." he heard, but the look he gave the woman who found herself momentarily falling backwards, was one that made it clear that he meant to go no further until he got some answers. He turned, knelt, and as he reached out to pluck the paper from where it was nestled, she let go his hand and curiously asked, "My word, what have we here?" Justin held it up to the soft light, turning it this way and that, before he could answer the rest of the group, who had come to a stop and were now turned facing his general direction, as he began reading aloud.

On Saturday [1 September] Mr. Wynne E. Baxter, the coroner for South-East Middlesex, opened an inquiry at the Working Lads' Institute, Whitechapel-road, into the circumstances attending the death of a woman supposed to be Mary Ann Nicholls, who was discovered lying dead on the pavement in Buck's-row, Baker's-row, Whitechapel, early on Friday morning. Her throat was cut, and she had other terrible injuries.

Inspector Helston, who has the case in hand, attended, with other officers, on behalf of the Criminal Investigation Department.

The look on Justin's face seemed to tell the whole story as he turned the paper towards the rest of the group and held it up for their inspection, before he spoke the words which would cause one of the small company of travelers to faint, and a couple more to draw a sharp breath, like a woman on the verge of a scream. Even the dark haired male who seemed undaunted and to take everything so far in stride was visibly taken aback as Justin Stated flatly:


"This paper is dated... Monday, September 3rd, 1888..." while pointing to the title of the paper, The Daily Telegraph (UK) adding the words "Folks...were in London... England!"

 

[Why]

.

....................

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Enrico "Ric" Manetti:

When the Silver Chalice made it around to him Ric took his drink as the others had done, but not before noting they had kind of dazed or bemused look in their eyes, on their faces. However, since none had seemed to suffer any ill effects, Ric too had his drink of the beverage.

It tasted to him like the honey mead his Pop made in the basement along with the homemade wine he distilled for the family and friends. The taste was rich and full bodied and he suspected it contained more than fermented honey and the other ingredients of mead, but it was good.

His head swam for a few moments as he clutched the table’s edge and the lights moving over the painting and pictures blurred and flickered. One picture caught his eyes and almost seemed to suck him into the image. It was the smoky scene of a city from sometime around the turn of the century like ones Pop had from the old country.

He was disoriented for a few moments and when he recovered he felt something snug around his neck and that his chino pants have been replaced by pants that felt like wool. He’s also wearing a heavier jacket that’s buttoned up the front a short way, a vest and his cross-training shoes have been replaced by heavier leather ones.

As everything clears he sees that the others who’d been at the table with him were standing in a room with him, but none were dressed as they had been nor were they in a tent any longer, but instead in a building of some kind.

From outside he heard the sonorous pealing of a bell three times and then someone called out that it was “Three o’clock and all’s well.” Accompanied by the clatter of horses hooves like the old carts in New York used years ago. He heard an obvious prostitute trying to sell her wares outside the front door and in a very strange accent he’d almost swear was the Queen’s English instead of good old American English.

They were moving into what looked like a sitting room when everyone suddenly stopped and the farm boy, now dressed differently too, held up a newspaper with a banner headline talking about the murder of a woman. Something sounded familiar about it, but it wasn't until he saw the date Septemer 1, 1888, on the masthead that it hit him because they’d studied the case in the FBI Academy.

Without thinking he said, “My God, that’s a Jack the Ripper murder, the first one if I remember correctly. Somehow we’re in London in 1888.”

When they turn to look at him he smiles realizing he's spoken allowed for the first time.

"Umm, my name's Enrico Manetti, but most folks who know me just call me Rick," he says looking from person to person.

 

[BlueEyedLady]

Bethany Collins

Bethany had been looking at the wall of paintings when they were called over to the table. It had been a weird feeling, watching them, but it was facinating as well. She could swear the figures amongst them moved and swayed and that they were, at times, looking at her. She could even believe that the smoke from the chiminey of a house was blowing in the breeze and that the birds in trees moved as they built a nest.

Walking away from the painting, glancing back every now and then to see if she was really being watched from that direction even as she chided herself for such thoughts, she took her seat and looked over to see who else was at the table with her. There seemed to be a variety of people and she wondered what walks of life they had come from.

As the woman at the head of the table spoke, she listened intently, trying to piece together exactly how to play this game and filling in the holes that were left from the first time she had talked to her, before they had been seated. Looking down, she saw her card and puzzled over it. She knew it was a Tarot card but did not know it's meaning. She had never been to a reader of the cards, she did not have the money to spend and did not really believe that they could devine her future from such things. She knew her future. Working and trying to live from paycheck to paycheck, eeking out a meager, but comfortable living. She had already sworn she would not marry or get involved with men after what happened with her father and mother. She was not ready to get into that kind of heartbreak and emotional upheaval again.

As the cup was passed to her, she looked into it in indecision. She had seen the others drink from it and they didn't seem to have any ill effects but she was unsure of exactly what was in it. Shrugging, deciding that, for once in her life she would go for it, she put the cup to her lips.

The smell hit her before anything and Bethany could swear that it was the aroma of the herbal teas her mother used to make for her when she was sick. Taking a drink, she could taste the sweet honey that the tea had been flavored with as well as the herbs that mixed with the sweetness. Memories, bitter-sweet, mixed in with the taste of the drink and she quickly passed it to the next person.

Sitting there, she was suddenly overcome with a feeling of light-headedness and she clutched at the table, blinking her eyes. She was not much of a drinker and she wondered if alcohol had been part of the drink. Using one hand to touch her forehead, she could see the room spin and then dim, the figures in the painting seeming to dance before her eyes. She could hear herself laugh at the jig they seemed to be doing and then blackness tumbled down upon her.

When she woke, she was disoriented and had to blink several times before she could get her bearings. Even then she couldn't. Standing on shaky legs from where she had been sitting on...grass? She looked around. Where was the tent and the woman and the paintings? Where were they?

As the chime rang the hour and the woman of ill dispute called out for buyers of her wares, Bethany decided that the drink did, indeed have alcohol and she was in a drunken stupor, imagining things. Reaching up to run a hand through her hair, she paused and felt the hairdo that she would never in her life wear, not even for work. It was swept up, piled on top of her head and large pins seemed to be holding it in place as small trindels fell along her neck, framing her face.

Almost afraid to look, she glanced down at the prim dress she wore. It was long and the color was green. A soft lacing covered the bosom of her dress, a necklace of pearls draped across it from her neck. She could now feel a tightening across her waist as well as heavy underthings along her legs under the dress. She was definately dressed to the nines.

Looking around at her companions, she noticed that they were dressed similarly and, definately, not in fashion for the times. At least their time. Getting no answers, she followed them into the building, her eyes taking in the sight of horse and carriage and the thick air of the place. The local accent of the people they passed was strange and she simply became more confused as they progressed into this scene.

When the newspaper was read, her eyes grew wide. It sounded so familiar. Something in the back of her mind niggled her to remember what it was. But it was not until the tall, dark stranger spoke up that it clicked and her hand went to her throat as she gasped. It couldn't be!

She barely heard him introduce herself and it was almost automatic to answer. "Bethany Collins," She said distractedly and then, with more focus,"And I refuse to believe we have, somehow, traveled through time into the day of a horrible killer. It just isn't possible!"

 

[IM1_RUASLUT2]

Meri Sexx

Listening to the barker and then stepping closer. "Sounds like my cup of tea. One please." Setting a five on the table and grinning ear to ear.

I listened to the one in charge as the jitters built in my stomache. There was several people here that made me think of the old days of seances.

"Now that I have got you all together, I have a couple words of advice for you, which I will share, as we pass around the Chalice of Dreams." With that she passed her open palms over the opening at the top of the glimmering container, ever so slowly, back and forth, one over the top of the other, all the while speaking the words which sounded like something from a long forgotten Shakespearean play. As she finished she brought her cupped palms up to her face, and breathing deeply, blew into them while lifting her hands towards the sky, and spoke in a commanding tone "To thine own self be true."

This was simialair but different and the cup made me feel special and included. I noticed the detail and engraving as I sniffed the contents. Being married a time too often to the man that likes to slip a mickey now and then I was hesistant but then drank a large gulp. I felt as if I was falling in a pit but not moving at all as I gripped someone's arm tightly. There was a light then a dim one and I felt more alarmed as the shadowy spectures became cleared.

I looked over the others and noticed the outdated clothing. "What happened?" I asked as I heard a voice reciting the top marking of the newspaper.

On Saturday [1 September] Mr. Wynne E. Baxter, the coroner for South-East Middlesex, opened an inquiry at the Working Lads' Institute, Whitechapel-road, into the circumstances attending the death of a woman supposed to be Mary Ann Nicholls, who was discovered lying dead on the pavement in Buck's-row, Baker's-row, Whitechapel, early on Friday morning. Her throat was cut, and she had other terrible injuries.

Inspector Helston, who has the case in hand, attended, with other officers, on behalf of the Criminal Investigation Department.

Justin Stated flatly "This paper is dated... Monday, September 3rd, 1888..." while pointing to the title of the paper, The Daily Telegraph (UK) adding the words "Folks...were in London... England!"

Another said, “My God, that’s a Jack the Ripper murder, the first one if I remember correctly. Somehow we’re in London in 1888.”

"Umm, my name's Enrico Manetti, but most folks who know me just call me Rick," he says looking from person to person.

"Bethany Collins," Another said distractedly and then, with more focus,"And I refuse to believe we have, somehow, traveled through time into the day of a horrible killer. It just isn't possible!"

"Impossible or not, we aren't where we were are we?" I pointed out with a frown. "My name is Meri Sexx.. I am a widow from Boston."
I shivered as I noticed that I was dressed rather vogueish and would most likely incur more male attention as we stood in the misty darkness and then another noise caught my attention. "OH CRIKES! " Jumping back from the large rodent shuffling along the building side, I defenitely wanted to be anywhere then in this alleyway.