Emerging in the Dining Car

Continuation of this thread.

You all emerge in the dining car. The train begins to slow even more. It's a bit haunting in here, with all of the dishes and silverware packed away for the night. Shadows cover almost everything, though you can see the two figures you are following within the shadows. They appear to have opened the exit door in this car, and you can see the English country landscape slowing in the night outside the door.

The shorter of the two figures, the one who Hastings saw in the shadows, appears to be handing their companion some sort of white cloth, while the taller appears to be surveying the landscape out in front of them.

Jimmy looks at the scene and his eyes go wide. They're going to jump and run.

He continues to run for them, trying to ignore the bumps and bruises he's gotten during the chase already. He hopes he can get there before they jump off the train and are lost into the crowd or into the woods, he's not really sure what the environment around the station is like. There could be plenty of areas to hide.

A little ways ahead of Boone, but not nearly close enough down the length of the dining car to stop the mysterious figures, Hastings hesitates, raising his gun again. He has a pretty clear shot, at least, and the car is fairly steady now that it's slowed, but should he? It's not exactly cricket to go waving guns around, ex-military or no, but then again, "not-cricket" doesn't begin to describe launching some kind of chemical attack and robbery on a train. After an instant's deliberation, and perhaps still a little too mired in the trenches again, he takes his shot. He's aiming to just graze the leg of the figure further away, or perhaps hit the bundles they're passing between them--mostly to distract them long enough so they can't make the jump.

The bullet flies through the darkness, and hits the shorter of the figures. You hear a high-pitched squeal of pain, though the bullet hitting the figure doesn't seem to be stopping them from what they were doing, nor does it distract the other figure. Hmm...

Jimmy jumps when he hears the shot, and stops. He doesn't want to get shot by an ally while trying to stop the mysterious figures.

Stacey keeps running after the figures, managing a quick "Hello, 'scuse me!" to Jimmy as he passes. He's actually smiling as he runs; this seems to almost be a game for him.

He muses aloud, "Goodness, shouldn't you be slowing down? Bullets tend to hurt, you know."

Jimmy's eyes go wide when Stacy passes him and speaks. That's Stacy Seyfried. THE Stacy Seyfried. Stacy bloody Seyfried was on the same train as me and is running after criminals. Running after criminals that don't even blink when their friends are shot and are about to juMP OFF A TRAIN!

Jimmy starts running again, pushing himself really hard. Because if Stacy Seyfried THE Stacy Seyfried gets hurt on his watch he's going to want to jump off the train himself.

The train continues to slow down. About 60 seconds before the train comes to complete stop at the station, the figures jump. The white cloths billow out behind them as they jump, making what appears to be almost some kind of makeshift parachute.

And, then, the white cloths and the figures disappear from your view.

As you all take this in, the train pulls into the station, though you aren't in Deering Vale quite yet. That will not be till morning, which is still a couple hours away.

(GM note: ...and...Congrats on finishing chapter 1 of Out of the Corner of Her Eye! Do you guys want to do anything else while on the train or in this station, or should we skip ahead to checking in at the hotel? - please send me a pm with your thoughts)

Hastings lets his arm fall, staring dumbly at the open train door. That was significantly more Simon Templar than he had been prepared for when he first boarded the train.

"I'll be damned... Who on earth were those fellows, spies?"

He suddenly remembers the presence of the others, a lady (cowering in the back) included, and reddens, spinning around.

"Oh, I'm awfully sorry, miss--" he goes to tip a hat that isn't there, since he went barrelling out of the compartment with barely time to throw on his coat. "I--" He remembers the revolver in his hand and quickly stows in back in his jacket. "Terribly sorry. Er, this is a bit awkward--Captain Arthur Hastings, and I don't normally pull guns out on public trains." He turns to Boone, as Dot gave him a tight smile before returning to sniffling forlornly at her now empty handbag.

"You're Scotland Yard, aren't you? Do you know what on earth that all was--the gas, the parachutes?" The surprisingly muted reaction to bullets?

"Whatever they were, how exciting it was! Like something straight out of radio." Stacey speaks with the giddiness of a child who just came back from a "wild" adventure out in the woods. "Though if they were spies, whatever would they be checking our luggage for? Surely, I don't have anything of national importance. Left most of those notes at home!"

Stacey tries to suppress his excitement as he remembers that yes, there is a lady nearby and heaven help him if she faints, and turns his gaze to Boone as well. "Scotland Yard, ah? This sounds more and more like something out of a mystery tale!"

"They might not have wanted anything to do with what we had but more to do with who we were. I'm Jimmy Boone, Scotland Yard's newest detective." He says by way of introduction before pausing to catch his breath. "Captain Arthur Hastings, you're a known ally of Hercule Poirot, and Stacy Seyfried, you're a famous radio personality and paranormal investigator. If something was going on with the train, we'd be on the short list of people to figure it out."

He sits, waking up in the middle of the night to chase after criminals while drugged is a bit more taxing than a casual jog. He rubs his eyes, "The question on my mind is did they really want things we might have or was this a distraction from something else?"

Hastings is rather chuffed to have been remembered--usually it's Poirot they all know--so it takes him a moment to register what Boone's just suggested. He's also slightly relieved the Scotland Yard man isn't as annoyed at his pulling out a firearm on a public train car as he'd worried he might be.

"Oh, I say, I hadn't thought of that... Well, they did take most of my hard cash, but they didn't bother with anything else." Had he just said "paranormal investigator"? He hadn't realized Stacey took the whole thing seriously enough to be famous for it. "What about you, did they take anything of note? Or--well, I can't wrap my head around what else they might have been trying to do; last I saw they were sprinting out of your compartment."


Dot looks up from where she had also slumped on one of the dining chair and quickly stows the handkerchief she was mopping her eyes with.

"They took all the money from my purse too," she adds miserably, clearly more cut at the loss than the man from one of the first class compartments.

(GM note: Any money or small items of obvious value not on your person have gone missing. Please, continue, and let me know when you all wish to move on.)

Stacey hums a low note as he thinks. "A distraction? Could very well be. Either way, someone did try to take my suitcase, but I scared them off with one solid whack of my cane."

Stacey lifts his cane to show it, only for the bit of light in the room to catch the dried blood on the end of the cane. "Oh! Ah, ignore that, that was there when I found this cane, it's surprisingly stubborn when it comes to cleaning." He sets it down again immediately, before he can offend anyone's delicate sensibilities.

"Either way, they didn't want anything in my suitcase enough to put up a fight for it, and everything else stays on my person. Wouldn't want to forget my notes anywhere!" He then quickly adds, at the sight of Dot and her handkerchief, "But I would be happy to assist you in finding these scoundrels who dared pilfer from you! It's the least I can do."

"I'll call Scotland Yard as soon as we get to our destination. And we'll need to see if anyone else on the train was looted," he sighs,"There goes my holiday. But I doubt we'll be able to learn more tonight. I say we go back to our compartments so we can face this fresh in the morning. What say you all?"

He smiles encouragingly at the others. He's tired, bruised, and frustrated. Hopefully, with some rest, tomorrow will look a little better.

(GM note: Everybody ready to move on? It looks like it?)

((Gaah, I'm so sorry, it says I'm watching this topic but it never gives me any notifications. ;___; Let's move on and get some stiff drinks.))