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Theolonius Alain Monke

"What's my angle? I'm head-on, baby, flat-out, all stops pulled, full steam ahead. My only 'angle' is the top. Ya dig?"

0 · 175 views · located in England

a character in “Smoke, Jazz, and Blood”, as played by Pyramids

Description

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Age: 32
Occupation: Blues Singer/Songwriter, Military Veteran (2nd Lieutenant, United States' 92nd Combat Division), Civil Rights Activist/Author
Sexuality: Hetero

Nationality: African American
Birthplace: Selma, Alabama (Moved to Chicago at the age of 8)
Current Place Of Residence: Harlem, New York
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Appearance:

Theo, as he prefers to be called, is a tall, lanky son of a bitch, that stands at a height of 6' 2". His thick, wavy hair is normally slicked back and permed tight, with a park down the side for shows and gatherings, at times of leisure though, he lets it flow free in it's full splendor as a thick, nappy afro. Despite him owning perhaps the finest set of facial hair in the states, Theo's most striking feature just might be the mole right beside his left nostril. His dark brown eyes are often accompanied by a pair of stylish looking circular framed glasses. In his ears he wears two tiny black hoop earrings. A pair of black beads are always wrapped around his right wrist.

Scars from Theo's days in the war riddle is body. The most notable being a deep one along his right cheek, and two bullet holes on the right side of his chest. Though far from muscular, what muscles Theo does have on his body are well toned--he believes the body to be a temple, and is all about keeping it well maintained. However, that sentiment didn't keep him from adorning his temple with a number of tattoos. On the backside of his left forearm, done in white ink, lies a large tattoo of the symbol of his combat division in the Great War, the head of a dear, framed by a reef of blooming flowers. On the top performer's left palm is a arbor tree, . On each one of his fingers below the knuckles, lie various symbols of nature, the sun, moon, trees, waves, things such as that.

Theo has been known to sort of 'glide' when he walks. His stroll is one that exudes a sense of calm. Hands either in his pockets, or holding his guitar, he walks with a slight slouch these days, but his head remains high.

Finally, on a normal day, you can catch Theo wearing a clean suit. Always one to stand out in a crowd, these are normally very eccentric in color (think Gatsby), or adornment. And he never goes out without his signature straw hat, and a Lucky Strike cigarette behind his ear.

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Personality:

Theolonius Alain Monke is at the same time, America's perfect, prodigal son, and it's worst nightmare. A self-proclaimed 'New Negro' (a phrase coined by African-American Philosopher Alain Locke), Theo is the epitome of self-confidence. The New Negro is an African-American that has grown tired of being cast aside by society. As a result, they act under the belief that; in order for them to flourish as people, and obtain their rightful place in society, they have to 'enforce' their presence and value themselves, through their actions and demeanor.

He is an incredibly proud man, and takes extreme pride in his culture and history. This pride for his people, and a strong sense of duty instilled by his time in the service, is what pushed him to pursue his career in music after the war--with a desire to elevate his people to new heights, Theo resolved to use his talent to it's full potential. He won't give anything less than 100%, and he refuses to take a hand-out from anyone. Years of being treated as a second-class citizen have left him scarred; he has an incredibly short fuse, and won't stand for disrespect. He's been trying to work on his temper, since he's getting older now--but it's hard. He has a hell of an ego, and it's very easily bruised. Theo is as militant as they come, and while he won't go out picking fights, he'll be the first to let you know that he won't back down from one.

Theo is as warm hearted as he is proud. To those he calls his friends, Theo seeks to be a figural umbrella. Protecting and shielding them from the hardships of the world. He isn't necessarily the kind of person to put other above himself, rather, he is one to bring others up with him. He's all about growing together. His friends are his family, and his family is his heart. He's a lover deep down, despite the militancy, with a soft spot for children, and pretty women. When he's not singing the blues on stage, he likes to dance away his woes with a drink (or a lady) in tow. Theo's a big fan of parties.

Well read on political, philosophical, and poetic literature, Theo is a cunning linguist. He was taught at a young age that a sharp tongue is just as good, if not better than a loaded gun. And as a black man in this day in age, a loaded gun might be your best friend. He uses his words in a variety of ways, from getting in and out of trouble, to getting in and out of beds. He loves a good debate--but only when he wins. He's a big sore loser.

Finally, Theo's time in the 92nd Division, a combat division plagued with death has left him with terrible night terrors. As of late, this dreams have gotten so bad that he hasn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time.

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History:

(An Excerpt from a recent article in the New York Times)


Theolonius Alain Monke is a Negro blues singer/songwriter, and political activist. With written manifestos revolving around the "New Negro Initiative", and a European tour poised to start in Nottingham later this year, Monke is easily one of the most prolific musical acts of the modern times.

Born in 1891, to Micheal and Sandra Monke, in Selma, Alabama, Theolonius was the middle child of three. In town, the Monke's were the well known owners on the Monke's Family Grocery, a small shop that was a staple of the local black community. When Theolonius reached the age of eight, in 1899, his family woke up one morning to see their business set ablaze. His father, realizing that the family's entire livelihood was in the building, ran into the flames, attempting to salvage whatever he could. The building continued to burn, and Theolonius' father never came out. Although they were alerted at once, authorities did not arrive until hours later. It was revealed that Micheal's body was crushed under fallen debris, trapped and unable to get out. Neighborhood accounts believed the incident was arson, but authorities refused to conduct an investigation due to lack of evidence.

Realizing there was nothing left for them in town, the Monke family remains packed up, and headed up North to Chicago, where Sandra's family was from, in hopes to escape the hardships of the south. Luckily, for the Monke's life up north was a lot better than it was a down south. Better didn't mean perfect--it was the 1900s after all. It was here, in the ghettos of Chicago, Theo told us, that he found his love for music. The streets, though dilapidated and run down as they were, were filled to the brim with life. And the grandest sign of that life was the music. The young, single mother that sat outside on her porch at night, crooning to herself on his walk home. Mr. Jefferies, the middle aged man who strolled through the neighborhood playing his trumpet as if he was a member of his own marching band. And then, there was the man himself, Mr. King, the man who sat on the street corner beside his apartment, plucking away at his bass night after night, keeping everyone in time.

Mr. Huey King would go on to become Theo's mentor throughout the majority of his young life. King was both a talented musician, and a playwright. King's plays revolved around contemporary themes, mostly related to civil rights and race. King was a high profile member of an underground group of black activists and artists called Root. Theo, knowing this, longed to one day join the group himself. A desire that only grew more when King, and several other members of the group were imprisoned, in 1905 for 'disturbing the peace'.

In 1917, the representatives of the United States Army came to his neighborhood looking for volunteers for one of the first colored units. Seeing this as a chance to make a difference for his people, Theo joined up, and that summer he was headed to Fort Des Moines in Iowa. He became a member of the 92nd Combat Division, a unit who's fate was doomed for misfortune. Several months of training, and a few promotions later, Theolonius and his unit were off to war. The 92nd was stationed at the Argonne Forrest in northern France, they were to act as the crucial front line defense against the enemy along with a unit of French soldiers. The battle would turn into a blood bath. The 92nd and the French had no idea how to work together, nor did they have adequate equipment, or familiarity of the battlefield. There were a total of 462 casualties at the Battle Of Argonne, leaving only half of Theo's unit left.

Everyone present at the battle knew that this was a fated loss, however, the brass in the military blamed Theo, and the 13 other newly promoted African-American officers for the loss at Argonne. In 1918, marking their loss as a public shame for the military, the 92nd and it's members were immediately disbanded. Most of the lower ranked officers dissolved into other groups, the thirteen officers however, were discharged from the service, and forced to go back to their old lives. Betrayed by the country he had served, Theo began to foster a hatred for the system. This was the catalyst that created the Theo of today. Back in America, Theo traveled to Harlem, New York along with several other former officers in the 92nd. What he found there was a veritable utopia for people such as himself. This was the genesis of the Harlem Renaissance, and Theo was right at home. Harlem was a place where his music, and mind found a place to really grow. A place where he could really articulate his feelings and channel his pain against the state.

In the years to come, Theo gained fame for his music. Blues in it's purest form. But it was his civil rights writings that gained him the love of his people. These writings came in the form of annual Almanacks titled 'Poor Antoine's Almanack', a direct spin on Benjamin Franklin's yearly publications. The novels would contain everything from true accounts of injustice from around the nation, to comical anecdotes, to Theo's own dissertations on the situations at hand. The most recent publication in the series can be found in stores nationwide filed under...

(continued on page 7A)

So begins...

Theolonius Alain Monke's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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Dod hummed to herself while opening her book, The Beautiful and Damned, to where she had left off last. She had come rather early for her train back to London and so she sat in an train cabin car waiting for the train to leave the station. There was a chatter around her from those on the station, children and parents yelling, others hollering their goodbyes, people crying. It was a mess of cacophony, but Dod rather liked it and it somehow helped her focus a bit more. Image

With her bags stashed away safely, Dod raised her feet onto the seats across from her. She could vaguely see people passing in the corridor looking in at her disapprovingly. A woman at her age by herself, wearing pants, it wasn't necessarily unheard of, but these were the kind of women that the general population was told to stay away from. Keep their distance, so they kept on walking, clucking their tongues as they went. Though a few men whistled as they went past, still Dod read on. All of this wasn't necessarily new to her and so she could easily ignore it all. The only time she would look up is when someone actually had the gall to walk into her cabin and sit down.

"Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those peepers. Jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those eyes. How they hypnotise," Dod sang as more people began to board the train. She knew all to well that at least one person would be sitting with her eventually, especially when the rest of the train cabins started to fill up more and her cabin would start to be the only one left with a seat. It amused her to say the least, when people did this, she didn't know exactly why, maybe because their sense of pretension seemed so silly to her. Either way waiting to see who would be the first to sit with her was a sort of game she played with herself. If someone sat down just as the train started move she would reward herself with a shot of whiskey for winning the bet, if someone sat down earlier she was punished by having to buy the person a drink, which really wasn't a punishment other the fact that she would be down a couple of pounds.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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"That was a beautiful show young blood, beautiful!"

The smell of burning coal was heavy in the air here, the walkways were paved with bodies. Among them, two brown skinned men that stuck out like a sore thumb, walked side by side. The first, was a tall man. A pair of circular frames surrounded a pair of dark brown eyes, that were in turn, surrounded by dark circles. The mark of a man unfamiliar with sleep. Humming to himself, a guitar case in his left hand, he slowly reached for the Lucky Strike cigarette behind his ear with his right. With a match from his pocket, he lit it. He took a long drag. And with the slightest smile on his face, he exhaled the smoke. This, was Theolonius Alain Monke, the man, the myth, the legend.

"But your chord on that last one, you, you know, the one about that Maria bird, it was sloppy," This man, with his wrinkled ebony skin, scraggly grey hair, and hunched back, was Mr. Huey Nathaniel King. The mentor and manager to Theo. He held up his hands, grabbing a non-existent guitar. "It's like this, see right here, lemme show you..." Theo didn't look. Instead, his eyes were trained on something else entirely. A blonde haired woman, darting through the crowd. A horn, cutting through the human chaos of the station. And through all of this, Huey still droned on.

"Mr.King," Said Theo, checking his watch as he quickened his pace.

"Ya fingers move too quick down the neck, take your time, like you're..."

"Mr. King!"

"What...?" Huey stopped.

"That's our train! We gotta book it!" And with that, the two musicians went flying down the walkway, weaving through the crowd.

* * *

"Mister Monke! We were getting worried that you wouldn't make it!"

An attendant, a man in a blue pinstriped vest and pants greeted a wheezing Theo and Huey, the last two passengers to board the train. Huey was nearly on the ground he was so hunched over. Theo was right in the middle of an extended coughing fit.

"Yeah well, we made it baby..." Theo exhaled, as he huffed and he puffed, and he leaned up against a wall beside him.

"....We've made the accommodations to the presidential cabin you've requested, right down to the Bechet records and brand of whisky." With an outstretched arm, he gestured down the hall before them. "If you'd like I could show you the way, it's the last room at the end of the hall." The attendant reached for the men's bags and Theo's guitar. The duo obliged with nods, and they took off down the hall after the man in the pin-stripped duds. "I must say, it's a such a great honor to have you here with us today," He turned his head towards Theo, "I am a huge fan, I LOVE 'Jumpin' out the woods', I sing Sent For You with my wife every morning!"

"Thanks kid. You should see my writing." He cooed. On their way down the hall, Theo glanced into each of the cabins, peering into the passengers they contained. "Looks like we're the only black folks again..." It was a sentence whispered just loud enough for only Huey to hear. The old man chuckled, just a bit.

As they neared the end of the hall, Theo over heard a few voices.

"I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back." Said a man from within the cabin beside him.

Over his shoulder, he took a closer look. There were four of them, three men, two women. The one woman, he had seen before--it was that blonde from outside. But the other...she was something else entirely. A devilish smirk crept it's way onto the veteran's face, as he sauntered over to the cabin.

"Put me down for one baby, Cuba Libre, on the rocks." There, he leaned in the doorway, eyes trained towards the women in particular. But he made sure to tip his hat to them all.

"Theolonius Alain Monke--friends call me Theo. It's a pleasure."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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Dod smirked to herself as another woman came into the cabin just as the train started to move, That's a shot for me, she thought, turning the page of her book. The woman, from what Dod could tell in the corner of her eye, pulled out her own book and started to read. At first it looked as though Dod was going to have a fairly quiet train ride with just the other woman and both of them reading, but then a man came in, not too loudly thankfully, and he walked up to the two.

"You got enough room in this car for an American?" he asked. Then another man entered before Dod could answer, only to leave after setting all his stuff down. Image

"Well there's plenty of room cowboy, I don't think anyone here is going to stop you," Dod answered, her eyes lifting from her book briefly so she could smile at this man. He was rather young with dark curly hair.

The second man came back in, "I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back." He said.

Dod stood up, setting her book neatly on her suitcase, "Might as well go with you, I have need Whiskey Smash," she looked to the woman who had come in before the other, "Do you want me to pick anything up for you doll?" she asked.

Another person came in, Dod looked around thinking she earned herself a drink for everyone who had come in last minute. Even though it was a larger train cabin, Dod was hard pressed to remember if there had ever been so many people sharing a cabin with her.

"I hope you all like music," this new man said.

"Depends," Dod answered, slumping to one hip and looking at him in mock scrutiny, "I prefer jazz to classical myself." She smiled and began to walk to the door heading back to the bar car only to be stopped by a man leaning against the door frame. He tipped his hat at everyone.

"Theolonius Alain Monke--friends call me Theo. It's a pleasure," he said.

"Pleasure is all mine. The name's Dod Freeman," she answered, tipping her own hat to everyone in mock of this man in the doorway, though she sent him a wink before exiting to fill her own order of drinks.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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#, as written by museman
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Jackson was able to slither through the mass of people in the cabin. He popped out into the corridor and stuck his landing. He brought his hands up to his sweater vest and dusted off his shoulders and upper chest. He held his glass with a somewhat forceful grip so that he wouldn't drop it. He never wasted and drink and never will. Even though his father was a huge alcoholic, Jackson won't turn down a drink for any reason unless it was several in and he could risk being drunk. He fixed himself upright and took a sip of his scotch. The liquid stung his throat, but no matter, Jackson took one more sip before stopping himself. It was still early morning and he didn't want to get too buzzed.

Turning to view the English country side scenery, the bright light from the sun made Jackson's eyelids shut with terror. He moved his hand above his eyes and provided a visor for himself. With all the talking going on Jackson decided to start making his way to the bar. He had no idea if the one woman would accompany him, but no matter. Jackson made his way in and walked up to the bar. He shot a half smile at the bartender who winced back at him. Placing his glass on the counter, the bartender swung his hand around to the container of scotch, but as he poured Jackson stopped him. He placed his hand over his glass and the bartender backed off. Jackson uttered one word. "Water." The bartender rolled his eyes "Alright, Sir." He brought out a wine glass and a pitcher of water. He dumped enough water out to fill the glass to the brim. Jackson nodded in thanks and proceeded to pick the glass up. He heard a voice shout from the corner of the bar "Sissy." Jackson slowly turned to see a big, burly, bald man with a handlebar mustache approach him. Jackson placed the glass down and peered at the big man. "Did I do something wrong?" The man smirked and made a fist with his hand. Jackson quickly grabbed the scotch in one hand and wineglass in the other and sped out of the room. He escaped by a hair of a second as the man swung and hit the counter. Jackson walked back to the cabin "I would be careful going down to the bar. There is some big scoundrel."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jackson Butler Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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LOTTIE ANDREW


And there went her peaceful, quiet ride to London. Ah well, at least there aren't any children, Lottie muttered to herself as some sort of consolation. After silently smiling at each of the unfamiliar men who entered the cabin and began conversing with one another, she lifted up her coat and hat and placed them on her lap to open up the seat for the others. The woman who introduced herself as 'Dod' seemed to be handling the conversations well enough so she felt no need to talk to anyone. That was until the same woman asked her a question. Quickly weighing her options, Lottie pushed herself up from the seat and placed her belongings where she sat.

"I think I'll come with you, if you don't mind," the blonde said with a small smile and a soft voice, after she realized that a short trip to the bar at the end of the car would be far less painful than having to stand a conversation with three men.

After carefully stepping out of the cabin, Lottie followed Dod hastily to the bar, ignoring what one of the men had mentioned to her and the group. She was already feeling relieved to be away from the mass of strangers that she'd likely be forced to spend the duration of the trip with. There were too many people in there for her liking. It was unnerving.

At the bar, Lottie stood at the counter with her arms behind her back, but did not order anything. She simply let her eyes wander around the room and out the windows, as she didn't get to see what the inside of her train looked like when she first sat down.

"That cabin is awfully jam-packed, wouldn't you agree?" Lottie said with a smile, her voice quiet and hesitant at her own attempt of friendly conversation. She hoped that the woman she was talking to would be as friendly as she looked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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The blond woman followed her out of the cabin and into the bar car. Dod ordered her Whiskey Smash while the woman she was with looked around the room. Dod followed suite and immediately met eyes with what she could only assume was the 'big scoundrel' that the guy with the drinks had warned them about. Dod rolled her eyes and looked away in time to see Theo walking up.

"That cabin is awfully jam-packed, wouldn't you agree?" the woman asked.

"That it is," Theo said, beating Dod to answering, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt. I just extended the invite to your friends back there, but I wanted to let you all know-"

The bartender interrupted with Theo's and Dod's drinks, though he gave more of a show with Theo's.

"-Im staying in the Presidential Cabin, plenty of smoke, drink, music, and space. I'd love to see you two dames there," with that he left.

"Well I may just have to," Dod called after him. She smirked and looked back the woman she was with.

"So what about you doll, what's your name?" Dod asked, taking a sip of her drink. Image

"I think I would like to know that same thing," a gentleman's voice interrupted. Dod looked over to see the 'big scoundrel' from earlier.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but dry up sweetheart," Dod said with a sickly sweet smile.

"Excuse me?"

"Well I just figured a rude entrance deserved a rude response, so why don't you just turn your tail, alright?"

The man stared down Dod, another growing problem with the 'modern woman' is that they were known for having unusually sharp tongues the no fear of speaking up which often aroused aggressive feelings from the people it was directed at.

"Now you listen here doll," he said pointing a giant's finger in her face, "No one, especially not some flapper, talks to me like that." Dod saw some men standing up in the back, though she had a feeling it wasn't to protect her, but back him up. He was about to turn to the woman she was with, possibly to tell her off too, but Dod squeezed between them.

"Sorry, but I have a feeling that our conversation isn't quite done yet," she turned to the woman behind her and whispered, "You might want to scram Jane."

"Oh but I think it is, bearcat" the man said, he raised his hand and back-handed Dod. She didn't lose her balance, but her cheek started to burn. Her mouth tightened a little and her eyes slowly looked over the man again. She suddenly slammed glass, the liquor still mostly inside, to the side of the guy's head. The sound of glass shattering filled the car as well as an explosion of sound; people yelling; the guy growling; the bartender pushing Dod out of the car; other people poking their heads out and whispering to see what was the matter. Dod just glared at the scoundrel man while the bartender did his best to keep everyone from bumping each other off, though once she was fulling out of the car she turned and walked down the corridor. She wasn't really entirely certain she wanted to see people right now, her blood still boiling from being back handed. So she just hung in the corridor, leaning against a window and rubbing her cheek delicately.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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LOTTIE ANDREW


Lottie let out a soft chuckle at the invite she had just received from the friendly man named Theo. She had been planning on just keeping the conversation between herself and the woman named Dod, but Theo seemed nice enough. Nicer than most strangers she's met tha day. Nicer than the one that had just forced himself into their conversation ever so rudely. The 'big scoundrel' she figured from his gruff attitude. Lottie had been meaning to respond to Dod's question but the man had interrupted her before she could. If there was one thing that Lottie hated most of all, it was being interrupted. It was just plain rude. The blonde rolled her eyes at the man's crude approach and turned her back to him to lean against the smooth bar-top and ignore his further advances. Although, she did breathe out a silent laugh at Dod's liberated way of speaking. Lottie always admired anyone who was willing to speak their mind without hesitation. Especially if they were a woman.

She glanced over at Dod and her eyes widened when she saw the man back-hand her and she in turn smash her glass against his head. She was definitely not expecting a brawl of anything of the sort to break out during her train ride, but it was much more exciting that her usual trips. In the bustle of people yelling and men pushing themselves around the room, it was easy for mousy little Lottie to slip her way out through the mess. It was also easy for her to take her handkerchief out of her pocket, fill it with ice from the bar, and follow after Dod out of the car.

She quickly found the woman leaning against a window by her lonesome. Lottie, in her usual tip-toed fashion, silently walked up behind Dod.

"Are you alright?" Lottie asked, her voice probably a bit too loud for someone appearing out of nowhere, "Here. It looked like he hit you fairly hard," she added, holding out her bundle of cloth and ice to the woman with the sore cheek.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke

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Dod just smiled and began to walk, her's and Lottie's linked arms helping tow the woman along. "Even if you were a psychopath doll, I have a feeling you wouldn't hurt me and we're going to the Presidential cabin now that we have someone on the inside who seems to be sweet on us. Might be a nice place to have an uninterrupted conversation, don't you think?"

When they walked up there was an attendant outside, Dod gave Lottie a face that seemed to say 'Well, well, well, isn't someone posh?' before facing the attendant.

"We were invited to join Theo, or you might know him as Theolonius Alain Monke," Dod said, she knew it was always good to prove that you knew important people on more familiar terms, it showed you were of 'higher ranking' than what you might actually be. "Our names are Dod Freeman and Charlotte Andrew."

The kid walked inside, closing the door behind him.Image

"I'm thinking when the fish gets back, we should beat his gums and see if we can give him the heebie-jeebies," Dod said, biting her lip staring at the door. Her left hand was getting colder the longer she held the wrapped ice and her cheek was still numb from the cold and still bright as a cherry.

The boy came back out of the cabin, "Ladies," he said stepping to the side. Dod let go of Lottie's arm and let the woman go in first while she stayed out. She walked slowly till she was standing next to the poor kid.

"So talk, any news of a bump off in London?" Dod asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Come on you seem like a well-informed fish, what's the news, any zozzled fights?"

"Well I think there was one that just happened in the bar car," he answered politely.

Dod frowned.

"Do you want some ice for you cheek? It's looking a bit sore Miss."

Dod gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head entering the car. "My evil plan didn't work," she whispered to Lottie, then turning to Theo who was lounging, "Nice place you have here Sheik. Love the music, Furry Lewis right?" Dod conversed as she sat down in a rather lounging manner herself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc

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DELILAH BLANC |LOTTIE ANDREW


Lottie couldn't help but nod and smile as Dod dragged her off to this Presidential cabin. She hadn't been planning on accepting the invite when Theo had first invited her, but something in her made Lottie not want to refuse Dod. So she went along with it, hesitantly but willingly.

Once inside, Lottie was beginning to feel the nervousness and regret creep in. There were awful lot of people she didn't recognize, the music was loud, and she didn't have any of her books to keep her company. So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and calmly thought, It's okay. This is for Dod. When she opened her eyes, she immediately set to work finding an open seat, which she was struggling with.



When Delilah had first boarded her train to London, she never would have thought that she'd run into so many of her old friends.

The first of these friends being Theo Monke, a fellow musician she had met the year prior. The two performers had bumped into each other in the hallway and now Delilah has found herself in a presidential cabin with good music, drinks, new friends, and all the ciggies she could ever want. It was a few minutes in when she met old friend number two.

When two new women had entered the cabin, Delilah barely spared the pair a passing glance before she returned to the conversation she was having with one of the other gentlemen in the room. Only when she heard a certain name did the new arrivals catch her attention. She quickly excused herself from the conversation, stood from her seat, and walked towards Theo and the others.

"It's Lottie, actually. Just Lottie," the blonde one had said to Theo and Huey, but Delilah wasn't paying her much mind. It was the brunette that she was focused on.

"So sorry to interrupt, gents, ladies," Delilah said with a slight playful tone, resting a thin hand gently on Theo's shoulder as she approached the group, "I must have misheard, Dod Freeman you said? There wouldn't happen to be a Dorothy before it, would it?" She asked in her soft, lilting voice, and a cheerful smile on her face. She held out her other hand to the brunette as she introduced herself, "Delilah Blanc. You may have heard of me?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc

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"Fine names if I ever heard one," the man named Huey said, "Well, what brings you two ladies to this knucklehead's cabin? Hell, what's takin' ya to London? I guess what i'm sayin' is...tell an old man about yourselves--it's a long train ride, and I'm tired of talkin' to him."

"Well I'm actually originally from London, just popped to Nottingham for a small visit," Dod answered. To her she was certain that wasn't the kind of exciting story Huey was looking for, but because she was English there wouldn't be amazing reasons to visiting London which was about four hours train ride from the Northern part of England.

Before Lottie could answer however another young lady popped up behind Theo, "So sorry to interrupt, gents, ladies. I must have misheard, Dod Freeman you said? There wouldn't happen to be a Dorothy before it, would it? Delilah Blanc. You may have heard of me?"Image

"Delilah Blanc?" Dod looked at the woman, her mouth hanging slightly open and eyes wide as if she had seen a vision from the past. She took Delilah's hand and stood up, "Mon amie, tu grandis depuis je te vois," Dod said, kissing the young ladies cheeks, "Comment t-allez vous?" she added, asking how she was.

"Don't mind us gentlemen, and Lottie, just old friends catching up," Dod said to the others. She pulled Delilah to sit next to her. It had been during the early times of the world that the two women had met and back then Delilah was more of a young girl than a woman. Dod had just moved to Paris and their encounter was brief then, but they still became the best of friends. Dod had given the little girl her address and for a while they had sent regular letter back and forth when Delilah moved to England. Though when the war reached Paris Dod had to stop sending those letters and the communication between the two stopped completely, until this very moment.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc

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DELILAH BLANC |LOTTIE ANDREW


"Je suis bien, mon ami. C'est bon de te voir!" Delilah exclaimed cheerfully, returning Dod's kisses with enthusiasm. She walked with Dod and the two sat together.

When Delilah was still a child, she lived with her family in her home city of Paris, France. She had spent most of her life at the club where her parents worked, so she had little to no friends and barely saw anyone that wasn't her siblings or her parents. However, on one day, when the lonely nine-year old was going about her life, she met an unusual but fascinating older girl. The two had lept at the friendship and were inseparable from that point on. When the two had stopped writing the other, it was a regretful decision that she still holds close to her heart to this day.

"Vous ne serez pas le croire, mais je suis un artiste professionnel," Delilah said proudly, a confident grin on her face.

Lottie followed after Dod slowly, sitting down next to the woman. She stared plainly at the stranger named Delilah, then back at Dod. This whole scene made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't like feeling so lonely or left out. She felt so awkward just for being here in this room. She quickly cleared her head and focused on one thing; she needed to try to interact with these strangers.

"I was not aware that you knew French," she blurted out, her attempt at being included into Dod and Delilah's conversation. Despite her awkwardness, she was genuinely impressed at Dod's skill. Lottie never really ever considered learning another language. She never needed to know a language other than english in her line of work.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorothy Freeman Character Portrait: Lottie Andrew Character Portrait: Everette D. Osborne Character Portrait: Terry Gillet Character Portrait: Theolonius Alain Monke Character Portrait: Delilah Blanc

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"I lived in France during the war," Dod explained to Lottie, "In the end it was about as good a place to hide as England, but I would never trade my time in France for anything."

"Pick your poison ladies. The drinks come with the cabin, so let's make sure to use 'em," Theo announced. When Dod looked to him and noticed for the first time that he had changed clothes.

"Might as well take a Whiskey Smash as my last one ended up getting smashed," Dod said wit a quirk in her lips. She stood up and went over to make her own drink.

"Alright everyone," Theo said lifting his own glass, "To new friends, old friends, and this side of the world treating me way better than the states ever did!"

"SantΓ©!" Dod said taking a sip of her drink, "Now if you'll excuse me I should probably get my stuff if we are to stay here for the journey. I'll grab your stuff as well Lottie." With that Dod momentarily left the Presidential cabin and made her way back to the one she had originally found. Just outside the door were two of them men from earlier, the polite, young boy who rekindled the fight and the man with the love for music.

"Are you alright?" she asked the younger man, briefly leaning against the wall. Though completely unneeded, Dod did find it rather noble of him, especially considering they were complete strangers. There was some thudding going down the corridor, going away from where they stood, but Dod could still see what was happening. It was the great bimbo of a man trying to be helped by a small woman, but he kept shoving her away.

"Poor dame," Dod whispered, tilting her head to rest on the wall, "Though nothing can be done," with that she walked into the cabin and slowly gathered her things, as well as the items that she saw Lottie handle earlier, her arms getting quite full.