Masks of Nyarlathotep: Chapter 1 (New York City)

[yangnome]

"Hmmm. Unfortunately, I don't know hte answers to any of you r questions. In fact, I was kind of hoping you might have some of these answers for me. From the sound of the telegram, I assume Jackson is coming ot town on the 15th. If you didn't get a telegram, maybe he was just contacting me.... though I don't know why he'd only seek my assistance. I wonder if anyone else has heard anything from him."

 

[Album Cover X]

Nice young man. Just needs that instinct to finish hitters off from the report. The Yanks could certainly use some more pitchin'. Win another title or two before the damn Bamino burns himself out at the rate that bum's going. Maybe a series of articles detaling one rookie's account of spring training might be the ticket as far as my editor concerned... Sure I could...

E.G notices William T. Llewellyn-Phelps across the street derailing his thought. He dodges a few motorcars and a policeman on horseback to reach William.

"Hello Will. Been awhile. You look lost in thought. Everything ok?"

 

[Andrew D. Gable]

Will stared at the papers blankly for a few moments, as if expecting an intelligible translation to leap out of the paper at him. So intent was he on the papers that he almost didn't notice E.G. Shellenback walking up to him and was startled by him when he began speaking.

"Shellenback! Good day to you. How are you? Fine, I hope?" Will pauses, gathering his thoughts. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a bit aggravated, is all, I need the information in these papers for my book I'm working on, but I'm afraid I don't know a bit of German. In fact, the wife had me leave for the day in hopes I'd become a little less irritable! Anyhow, once I got out, I remembered our old friend Charlie here speaks a smattering of German, we'll see what he can do.

"So how is your own writing going, my good man?"

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"I don't know if he contacted anyone else... but I can find out quickly enough. Or we can make the contacts outselves. Jackson sounded like he wanted you to get a team together. I won't lie to you Father, I still have bad dreams about last time, but I know my dreams would be far worse if I did not attend to these kinds of things. Let me contact my son and get some telegraphs sent to the others. Did you want to send one back to Jackson while you were at it? If he knows there's a team, we might get some more information out of the man," Miriam says briskly. She moves over to the phone and raises an eyebrow at Father O'Malley.

 

[yangnome]

"Sure, that sounds like a good idea. Let's do that. I'm pretty anxious to find out what Jackson has planned for us."

 

[Album Cover X]

"My own writing? Actually Will, sometimes I feel I've reached a crossroads of sorts."

He continues as the two men walk toward the door to Whitford's Antiques and Oddities.

"I still the love the 'ol ballgame as much as anyone. Maybe more. I did just speak to a new prospect earlier today in fact. Maybe its just because the calendar reads January. I'm sure I'll break out of this slump I'm in," he says almost fishing for encouragement.

"I'm also concerned about my own paper's survival. Last year the Evening Sun merged with the Mail & Express. And this year the Tribune and the Herald look as if they will do the same. I wonder if my own paper is fated for a similar outcome," as the last few words trail off in volume.

"Oh. I'm sorry Will. Here I am telling you of my problems. Where's my manners?"

 

[Gomez]

Charles Whitford busied himself unpacking his morning parcel male. "Oh" he thought. "Here are those celtic carvings that he had purchased at that auction in Boston." As he began to sort and unpack the sound of the bell attached to the front door tinkled. Looking up he was amazed to see two old friends enter together. They were chatting away as they walked into his shop.....

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"Well, let me give a call to Charles, he might have seen the others more recently than I," Miriam says, picking up the phone. "Yes, operator? Whitford's Antiques and Oddities please. Thank you."

*The phone starts to ring, and Miriam idly fiddles with a small Egyptian statue on the phone stand. It was a gift from one of her clients, a gold statue inlaid with semi-precious stones and glass, of a woman wearing an outlandish headdress, spreading rainbow wings. Helen had told her it was of Isis, the goddess of magic, and thus singularly appropriate for her. Miriam didn't believe in it of course, but it was a lovely statue nevertheless.*

Isis statue

 

[Cannibal_Kender]

"By jove!", Charles says in a surprised voice, unconsciously straightening his glasses as they slip down his nose. "Shellenback, Phelps", he says, his astonishment turning to pleasure, "It's been positively ages! What brings you two to this backwards locale?"

The phone on the wall behind the counter chooses that moment to ring.

"Oh bother", says Charles with a grimace. "I won't be but a moment. You two wait right there. We have some catching up to do."

He crosses the shop. Taking the phone off the wall hook he holds it to his left ear. "Whitford Oddities and Antiques. How may we be of service?"

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"Charles! It's Miriam, how are you? Look, I simply must come straight to the point. Father O'Malley is sitting in my kitchen right now with a telegram in his hand from Jackson Elias. He's talking about getting a team together... and while I still have the most awful dreams from the Stanford Case I can't deny it was a good thing and we all made a good team. At any rate, I was wondering if you've seen Shellenback or William? I think we might need to get back together."