*comment ñáéç…— *set year 1892 *hide_reuse *advertisement *if stlouis_cult and (stl_kid_nick = "undecided") *bug no kid defined *if browns_saved > 2 *bug how is browns_saved > 2? *comment $24-to-$1 *temp arbitrage_investment 0 *temp arbitrage_outcome 1 *rand arbitrage_outcome 1 4 *temp arbitrage_invested 1 *temp smith_dead false *temp memories false *comment this is a very reactive chapter, largely dependent on various plots that are or aren't happening. *if (finance > 0) or ((((technology > 1) or (intelligence > 3)) or (stlouis_enterprise = 2)) or (local_fame > 45)) *comment 92-01 *set arbitrage_invested 2 *gosub arbitrage *page_break *if (religious_tradition = "catholic") or ((stlouis_enterprise = 1) or (shepherd_credentials > 60)) *comment 91-03-14 *gosub nola_hangings *page_break *if haven_decrepit and (income > 5) Since you purchased your home, your finances have improved. However, you have not yet taken it upon yourself to catch up on the maintenance necessary to restore the house. *choice #I leave it the way it is. *set discretion %-5 *set compassion %+5 Why waste money on something that will just crumble away in time? #I direct ${stlouis_valet} to restore the property. *set income -3 *set haven_decrepit false *set haven_value *1.25 It is many long days of hammering and sawing, but eventually the house is restored. *selectable_if (wealth > 200000) #I direct ${stlouis_valet} to restore and expand the property. *set income -3 *set wealth -25000 *set haven_decrepit false *set haven_value *2.5 *set bloodflow +1 *set local_fame %+5 *set exposure +1 *if creation > 1 *set haven_value +15000 *set local_fame %+5 It is many long days of hammering and sawing, but eventually the house is restored and expanded. New fixtures are added throughout, and a new storey is added to the stables. @{(creation > 1) Your sense of design makes every change fit within the whole; passers-by are struck by the easy charm of the property.|} *gosub slattery_interferes All-in-all, you've clearly upgraded the value of your haven. Of course, there are some uncomfortable questions from the workers about you and your needs; you do your best to redirect those curiosities. *elseif renter = false *if haven_value > 30000 *temp old_value haven_value Your haven has served you well over the past dozen years, but you could easily envision some improvements. *choice *selectable_if (wealth > 500000) #I shall undertake a serious renovation project! *set wealth -25000 *set haven_value +50000 *if creation > 1 *set haven_value +15000 *set local_fame %+5 *if (haven_value > 100000) and (old_value < 100000) *set bloodflow +1 *comment having a house that you can entertain in makes it easier to feed. *set exposure +2 *set local_fame %+10 The work is extensive. New fixtures are added throughout, and a new storey is added to the stables. @{(creation > 1) Your sense of design makes every change fit within the whole; passers-by are struck by the easy charm of the property.|} *gosub slattery_interferes All-in-all, you've clearly upgraded the value of your haven. Of course, there are some uncomfortable questions from the workers about you and your needs; you do your best to redirect those curiosities. *selectable_if (wealth > 200000) #An upgrade is needed. *set wealth -10000 *set haven_value +20000 *set exposure +1 *set local_fame %+5 The work is notable. New fixtures are added throughout, and a new storey is added to the stables. *gosub slattery_interferes All-in-all, you've clearly upgraded the value of your haven. Of course, there are some uncomfortable questions from the workers about you and your needs; you do your best to redirect those curiosities. *selectable_if (wealth > 100000) #A new roof, shore up the foundation…a few steps past basic maintenance will do wonders. *set wealth -5000 *set haven_value +10000 Organizing the work to not disturb your daysleep turns out to be more complicated than you had anticipated, but you eventually sort the matter. Within a few weeks, the upgrades are complete, and you return to your normal routine. #Adding to the house is a distraction and exposes me to unnecessary risks. *set discretion %-5 Having workers in and among your things for days on end sounds like a receipe for disaster. Your vanity can be set aside for the moment. *else Your haven has never been much to look at. You acquired it for basically nothing, and it shows. ${stlouis_valet} has been making some noise about ${valet_his} sleeping conditions. You consider whether now might be an opportune moment to do some upgrades. *choice *selectable_if (wealth > 500000) #I shall undertake a serious renovation project! *set wealth -25000 *set haven_value +50000 *if creation > 1 *set haven_value +15000 *set local_fame %+5 *set exposure +2 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %+15 The work is extensive. The building is mostly dismantled and rebuilt. It is still a modest home, but the leaks stop, the floor is easier to keep mud-free, and the draughts in winter come to an end. @{(creation > 1) You sense of design renders the changes aesthetically pleasing as well; passers-by are struck by the easy charm of the property.|} Of course, there are some uncomfortable questions from the workers about you and your needs; you do your best to redirect those curiosities. *gosub slattery_interferes When is all complete, ${stlouis_valet} is clearly thrilled by the new accommodations. *selectable_if (wealth > 200000) #An upgrade is needed. *set wealth -10000 *set haven_value +20000 *set exposure +1 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %+10 The work is notable. A new roof, a refinished foundation, windows, doors…the leaks are plugged, the draughts are sealed, and a fresh coat of paint is applied. *gosub slattery_interferes Of course, there are some uncomfortable questions from the workers about you and your needs; you do your best to redirect those curiosities. But when is all complete, ${stlouis_valet} is satisfied by the new accommodations. *selectable_if (wealth > 100000) #A new roof, shore up the foundation…a few steps past basic maintenance will do wonders. *set wealth -5000 *set haven_value +10000 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %+5 Organizing the work to not disturb your daysleep turns out to be more complicated than you had anticipated, but you eventually sort the matter. Within a few weeks, the upgrades are complete, and you return to your normal routine. ${stlouis_valet} seems mollified by the improvements. #Adding to the house is a distraction and exposes me to unnecessary risks. *set discretion %-5 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %-5 Having workers in and among your things for days on end sounds like a receipe for disaster. ${stlouis_valet} shall have to make do. *page_break *if renter ${stlouis_valet} alerts you one cold winter evening that your landlady has passed. The landlady's son would be happy to sell you the property, if you were inclined to purchase it. *temp slattery false *choice *if wealth > 50000 *selectable_if (charm > 3) #I encourage him to offer an even better price. *label induced_sale *set laborvscapital %-5 *set wealth -25000 *set haven_value 50000 *set renter false The young heir soon sees the wisdom of @{slattery Slattery's|your} words. The papers are drawn up, you sign the documents, and soon thereafter take legal control of the building. *selectable_if (wealth > 100000) #I pay the price demanded. *set wealth -50000 *set haven_value 50000 *set renter false The young heir offers you a fair price, and you accept. With the assistance of ${stlouis_valet}, the documents are drawn up, executed, and filed, and soon you take legal possession of the building. #No, I'm content renting. *set laborvscapital %+10 The young man is clearly disappointed; he has no interest in running a rooming house. He will survive. *if ((stlouis_enterprise = 2) and (wealth > 50000)) #With the assitance of some of my criminal associates, we make him an offer he can't refuse. *set local_fame %+5 The boys are only too happy to communicate your desires. *goto induced_sale *if (stl_met_slattery = 4) #With the help of Judge Cranch, I force the sale at a better price. *set slattery true *goto induced_sale *if renter = false Of course, now that you have a rooming house, you must decide what to do with the other tenants. *choice #I suppose I'm now a landlord. *set income +3 *set exposure +1 ${stlouis_valet} is now a property manager; ${valet_he} adds it to his list of other titles. #I clear them out; I want the building for myself. *set shepherd_credentials %-5 *set local_fame %+5 *set justice %+5 *if haven_value > 200000 *set bloodflow +1 *if stl_met_slattery > 7 Unfortunately, Captain Slattery @{(stl_met_slattery = 9) and his pal Judge Cranch don't|doesn't} allow you to evict the tenants so easily. Police visit your house daily to make sure you aren't harassing the tenants unnecessarily. Eventually, you are forced to pay the tenants to leave. That ended up being much more expensive than you had anticipated. *set wealth -20000 *set stl_met_slattery 8 *else The former tenants are quite displeased at being summarily expelled from their homes. They curse your name, unaware that perhaps they have managed to elude a more precipitous doom by being removed from your presence. *if (stlouis_cult) #I clear them out and replace them with members of the cult. *set stlouis_cult_power %+5 Your disciplines call out your name in gratitude. Amanda sets about organizing the new residents. *gosub_scene stlouis_haven household_maintenance *page_break *if (stlouis_enterprise = 3) or (stlouis_enterprise = 7) *gosub futurists *page_break *if stl_vda_drama or (sporting_goods > 1) Just before the new season begins in March of 1891, Chris Von der Ahe takes the extraordinary step of browbeating a local judge into issuing an arrest warrant for one of his former players, Mark Baldwin. Baldwin had been visiting St. Louis with the intention of recruiting away members of Von der Ahe's team. Baldwin is arrested and thrown into jail for all of three days. Once he has a hearing, however, he is immediately released; after returning home to Pittsburg, he files suit against Von der Ahe for false imprisonment. A judgment is levied against Von der Ahe, who scoffs at the matter. "Let him come here and arrest me!" he declares in the ${post_dispatch}. Because the judgment was levied in Pittsburg, Baldwin has no recourse in the matter…until or unless Von der Ahe returns to Pennsylvania. *page_break *if ((religious_tradition = "catholic") and (compassion < 55)) or (laborvscapital > 60) *comment 91-05-15 To the surprise of workers everywhere, Pope Leo XIII publishes an encyclical, [i]Rerum novarum,[/i] in the late spring. In it, he asserts the duty of the Church and its advocates to take a stance on social issues in defense of justice and dignity. Moreover, it whole-heartedly endorses the right of workers to form unions to protect the rights and interests of the workers. Further, it asserts that any wage must be enough to support a well-behaved individual in modest comfort. On the other hand, the encyclical does begin by quoting Thomas of Aquinas's natural law of private property, and continues with a full rejection of socialism—accusing socialists of preying upon the envy and greed of the poor to extort or expropriate from the rich. *choice #The pope betrays the very idea of private property! A contract is a contract. *set laborvscapital %-25 *set discretion %+5 *set shepherd_credentials %-5 If an eight year old agrees to work in a coal mine for a nickel a day, no one should be able to abrogate that agreement. It's not like the child was forced to accept the offer; the days of slavery are past. #If the pope proclaims it, then it must be true. I trust in his guidance. *set rationalism %+5 *set discretion %-5 *if laborvscapital < 40 *set laborvscapital %+8 The pope has proclaimed the dignity of the worker, and you will obey. #The pope makes a reasonable compromise between the needs of the poor and the natural rights of man. *if laborvscapital < 40 *set laborvscapital %+15 *elseif laborvscapital > 60 *set laborvscapital %-15 It does no one any good for a worker to die of cold or starvation because his wage cannot feed him. They should have the bare necessities. #The pope sides with capital by offering the worker the barest of concessions. *set laborvscapital %+20 Private property is a notion that the wealthy use to oppress the poor. If the pope truly cared for justice or dignity, he would reject the authority of capital. *if rationalism > 55 As Jesus said, "[i]it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.[/i]" *else Morover, it is ironic that the Church does not recognize private property within itself; everything is owned collectively. Why is the organization of the church not good enough for society at large? *page_break *elseif ((religious_tradition = "reformed") and (laborvscapital < 45)) and ((ethnicity != "african") and (ethnicity != "choctaw")) *comment 91-05-15 *gosub rerum_novarum *page_break *if (stlouis_affair = 3) *comment 91-06 *gosub letter_from_annie *page_break *if (stl_electricity > 5) *comment 91-06-20 First nighttime horserace. *gosub racing_by_night *comment *page_break *if stlouis_cult and (stl_kid_met) *gosub new_disciple *page_break *if stl_vda_drama or ((sporting_goods > 1) or (browns_saved > 1)) *set stl_vda_drama true *comment 1892, STL Browns change leagues (the American League went bankrupt in '91), joining the National League. The Browns suck until at least 1919. Former AL teams are granted the option to continue competing on Sunday by the league. The American League of Baseball goes bankrupt in '91, leaving those few teams who were still popular in need of a new home. Those orphaned franchises agree to join the National League on the condition that they can still play on Sundays@{browns_sundays_moved , though the Browns choose to not exercise this right|}. The National League agrees to the compromise, and the '92 season begins with a number of new franchises. *if browns_sundays_moved = false The ${SLBA} breathes a collective sign of relief over this compromise. *if browns_saved >= 2 Thanks to John McGraw, however, the Browns have a surprisingly good season. While Von der Ahe is damaged by the failure of the American League, McGraw's spirit helps fill the bleachers at games and helps Von der Ahe to hold the line on his debts. *if sporting_goods = 2 *set wealth +10000 *if sporting_goods = 3 *set wealth +50000 *if sporting_goods = 4 *set wealth +100000 *if sporting_goods > 1 ${spalding_sporting_goods} glows in the reflected glory of McGraw. *if (browns_saved = 1) @{stl_vda_debt Were it not for your having paid off part of his debt, Von der Ahe would have been sunk by the collapse of the American League.|Despite Von der Ahe's previous antics, his debts finally catch up with him. He is forced to put up Sportsman's Park as collateral for his debts to the bank.} *page_break *if ((ethnicity = "african") or (feeding_style = "artists")) or ((stlouis_enterprise = 5) or (anachronism > 75)) *gosub intro_to_ragtime *page_break *gosub valet_date *page_break *if arbitrage_investment > 0 *gosub arbitrage_first_exit *page_break *if (ethnicity = "african") or ((shepherd_credentials > 80) or met_wheeler_and_turner) *comment 1892-05-31 *gosub lamentation_day *page_break *if (stlouis_affair = 3) *gosub annie_returns *page_break *if (arbitrage_invested > 1) *comment 92-06-05 @{(stlouis_affair = 3) June continues on; Ms. Jones cannot…must not…consume every waking moment.|June rolls around. The days are long and your nighttime adventures are commensurately curtailed.} You @{literate read in the newspaper|hear it noted} that there has been a fire in Creede, Colorado, consuming many of the downtown structures. *if smith_dead You idly muse that it was for the best that you murdered Mr. Smith. He probably would have lost his proverbial shirt in the inferno—were he still alive. *else @{arbitrage_invested ERROR|You are grateful that you did not gamble on Mr. Smith's scheme; this fire is likely his downfall.|You exhale a sigh of relief. It is likely that you withdrew your money from Smith's scheme at just the right time.|If you could breathe, you would be holding your breath. What does this mean for your venture with Mr. Smith? The mines themselves may not be damaged, but how much work can be done if the homes and stores are burnt to the ground? You anxiously await further word.} *if watching_james The peculiarity of the conflagration is compounded by the fact that, just two days later, Robert Ford is murdered in his just-erected tent saloon. He had apparently relocated to Creede when the silver mine was opened and established a saloon there, which was consumed along with the rest of the town by the fire. *if (arbitrage_invested = 1) and watching_james It seems like the saga of Jesse James is not quite finished. For the past few decades, Colorado has been the site of boomtowns in response to the discovery of silver mines there. One such boomtown is named Creede. Robert Ford, the murderer of Jesse James, relocated to Creede sometime last year and opened a saloon. On June 8th, a man walks into the saloon with a double-barrelled shotgun and empties both cartridges into Ford at close range. The James saga can finally be said to have concluded. *if (ethnicity = "african") or ((shepherd_credentials > 80) or met_wheeler_and_turner) *comment 1892-06-07 *gosub plessy *page_break *if (finance > 0) or ((laborvscapital > 60) or (laborvscapital < 40)) *comment 1892-07-01 *gosub homestead_strike *page_break *if ((shepherd_credentials > 40) or (local_fame > 40)) or (finance > 1) *gosub hear_of_white_city *page_break *if municipal_debt > 0 *set wealth +(municipal_debt * 0.005) You receive another dividend check from the Merchant's Bridge. It is, once again, frustratingly small. *if stl_vda_drama *comment 1892-09 @{browns_saved The Browns have continued to decline since their near-win in 1889. Two years ago, Von der Ahe and Comiskey tried to bury the hatchet, but Comiskey left again after the season was over. This year, the Browns came in second to last.|Inspired by McGraw's spirit, the Browns have continued to hold the line with their rankings. With another strategic acquisition or two, they could take a pennant soon.} Von der Ahe politely requests your presence at the Golden Lion one evening in September. @{((sporting_goods = 2) or (sporting_goods = 3)) You are, in fact, anxious to meet with the man, as the revenue from your venture has suffered with the team's fortunes.|} When you arrive, you find Von der Ahe in his office, surrounded by drawings and plans. He gestures excitedly to the different elements as he speaks. "Don't you see? Let them come for other reasons, not just the baseball!" Examining the sketches emblazoned "New Sportsman's Park," you take in the proposition: a new entertainment park, complete with baseball field, ice skating rink, horse-racing track, a small apartment complex, and a beer garden. *if schnaiders_closed It's the plans for the beer garden, in particular, that stills you. "You want to build a beer garden?" Von der Ahe nods. "What about Schnaider's?" "@{speaks_german What|Vat} about it?" "That was the preeminent [i]biergarten[/i] of St. Louis, and it closed. You want to open a new one?" "@{speaks_german Why, yes! We will do it better!|Vy, yes! Ve vill do it better!}" That is, frankly, the worst business plan you have ever heard. "Thank you, Christopher, but I must decline involvement in this." Von der Ahe sputters as you excuse yourself. *else "What are you asking for, Christopher?" "@{speaks_german I hoped that you might be willing to partner with me on this new venture.|I hoped zat you vould join me in zis.}" You study the plans; they are certainly ambitious. You suppose that they are different only as a matter of size, rather than quality. In principle, the affair should be a smashing success. In principle. "And what of the Browns? Comiskey is gone, and this year you fired five managers. If no one attends their games, who will skate on the rink? Who will drink in the [i]biergarten?[/i]@{browns_sundays_moved And they still can't play on Sundays.|}" Von der Ahe scowls at you. "If you do not @{speaks_german want|vant} to join us, then go! I don't need you!" *comment this is tough. The park fail ultimately fails, and next year is the panic. Giving the player the opportunity to invest when failure is certain seems like it would be frustrating, a la the bonds in Memphis. You gather your things and depart. There is no utility to arguing with this ego in the shape of man. *if arbitrage_investment > 0 *comment 1892-11 *gosub arbitrage_second_exit *page_break *comment 1892-12-02 Whether greeted with joy or dismay, news of Jay Gould's death due to tuberculosis spreads like wildfire throughout the country and the world. The railroad baron was an undeniable presence in the country, whose every move both financial and social was scrutinized by the press and the curious. @{met_lefferts You idly wonder what this means for Edwin Lefferts.|} *finish *label futurists "When do you think we'll make it to the moon?" "Whatever are you talking about, Constance," you reply. "No, no…I think she has an excellent point. It's not a matter of if, but when!" Gerald inserts himself, as he always does, into any conversation that involves Constance. Questions such as these are frequently posed in the salons of Henry and Henrietta Phelps. They regularly invite doctors, engineers, scientists, and their ilk over to discuss the discoveries of the day. They are currently discussing the work of Jules Verne, [i]From the Earth to the Moon[/i]. Because of your involvement with @{(stlouis_enterprise = 3) local scientists and technologists|the University of Washington}, you find yourself occasionally attending these events. *choice #The idea of going to the moon is…@{(rationalism > 60) inconceivable|impious}. *if rationalism > 60 The heavens are the home of the divine. Attempting to reach so high is what brought Babylon low. We should not aspire to recreate that failure. *else What does that even mean, to go to the moon? You have a hard enough time accepting the existence of hot-air balloons. You keep your opinions to yourself; no sense in alienating your hosts. *selectable_if (anachronism > 70) #"Let us learn to crawl before we seek to walk." "How do you mean?" Gerald demands. "We are still seeking to master the hot-air balloon. @{(technology > 1) It's my understanding the pilot of such is still entirely at the mercy of the winds and cannot control their direction, much less use it for directed transportation.|} We cannot simply go so high with no plan for coming back down." There are a number of sage nods in response. One person asks a question of their neighbor and soon the room breaks into smaller conversations. *selectable_if ((anachronism > 80) or ((intelligence + technology) > 4)) #"A hundred years or so." The room gasps at your prediction. Conversation turns heated, as some argue for sooner, others for later. (Gerald soon takes Constance's side, of course.) Still others attempt to defend your estimation. The room breaks into smaller conversations. "Have you read much of Verne, ${given_name}?" a stranger inquires. @{(intelligence > 2) "Yes,"|"No,"} you reply. @{(intelligence > 2) "Verne never did say what happened to the explorers once they were lauched into the sky."|} The woman's unruly brown curls bounce in excitement. "But he suggested it. And here we are debating it!" "I fail to see your point." "We're creating the future, right here in this very room." "Don't be absurd. We're not creating the future." "You're right: we're not creating it. Verne created it. And the other writers too, like Mary Shelley; they are just beginning to tell us what the future will be like." *choice #"The future will be what it will be, regardless of what some absinthe-soaked scribblers say." *set anachronism %-5 She frowns at you. "You're not very imaginative," she pouts. #"Why, yes, I intend to stitch together a servant made from the remains of the dead." *set local_fame %+5 She titters. "Do let me know when the time comes. I shall @{male correct you on your needlework|hold your scalpel for you}. One shouldn't be forced to handle such alone." "I shall summon you as soon as I order the construction of my laboratory." "See that you do!" she says with a smile. #"I thought Shelley was critiquing the condition of modern man?" *set discretion %-5 "So she was! But she critiques us while proposing a possible future: one in which the parts of the dead can be reused to the benefit of others," the woman smiles at you. "You're saying that the limb of a dead person will be affixed to the body of a living one, and restore the living to their entirety?" "Just think of the applications! Especially for the veterans who have given so much." "I see." Even if you don't see, exactly. *line_break *line_break "But the future is coming, whether we like it or not. At least here we play some part in its crafting." "What do you propose that we do about it?" "I want to imagine the best future possible! Where human beings are free from want, free from cruelty, free to live and love with all their hearts…" "You're starting to sound like a utopianist again," someone interjects. "And what's so wrong with that?" demands your interlocutor. "Oh, shush yourself, Max," she retorts. "Tell me, ${given_name}, what sort of future would you like to imagine?" *choice #"I can imagine no happy future. When I look forward, all I see are rivers of blood. Where humans are enslaved to the needs of their superiors." *set shepherd_credentials %-5 "Yes, well, I can see that you're a real joy to have at parties," the woman replies. "I wish you the best with your rivers of blood." The rest of the evening is filled with similarly trite conversation. *return #"The best thing to do for you fellows is to do the best for yourself." *set shepherd_credentials %-5 *set laborvscapital %-15 *if laborvscapital < 35 *set stlouis_business_climate %+10 "I didn't take you for a devotee of Mill, ${given_name}." "I find the idea of sharing to be repugnant. Take what is yours. Take all that you need. Take all that no one will stop you from taking. And when someone seeks to stop you, stop them." "Mill, or Hobbes?" Max muses. "It is a war of all against all. Anything else is self-delusion," you reply. "You must live a very lonely life," the brown-haired woman says. You scowl at her. You suppress the urge to drain her right here, right now, before all these fatuous intellectuals. Instead: "Enjoy your utopia. Send me a postcard once you get there." Her eyes go wide. Before she can get her response out, you announce your departure to the room. They bid you farewell while the woman silently steams. *return #"I too imagine a world where the least are made equal to the greatest, and humans live without deprivation." *set laborvscapital %+10 *set shepherd_credentials %+5 *if laborvscapital > 60 *set stlouis_business_climate %-5 "Just so!" the woman says with a clap of her hands. "It seems we have Marxist in our midst," announces one neighbor. "Or an anarchist?" says another. "Perhaps a mutualist?" inquires a third, a note of hope in her voice. "No, Shelly, you're still the only mutualist in St. Louis," replies the second. "Oh," says Shelly, crestfallen. "I'm simply saying that I agree, I can imagine a better world than this one. One that we should all be seeking to realize." "Just so!" exclaims your interlocutor. She wraps her arm in yours. A new friend? She spends the rest of the evening hanging on your every word. *return *if ((rationalism > 50) or priest) #"This existence is a struggle between the forces of good and the forces of evil." *set rationalism %+5 *achieve old_nan "I didn't realize you were religious, ${sir}." *if priest "The collar didn't give it away?" you retort. "There are plent of priests that do not subscribe to such millenarianism…" you cut her off with a wave of your hand. "You sweet, summer child. What do you know of fear? What do you know of death? What do you know of evil?" "If you'll excuse me…" she says, clearly unnerved by the beginning of what promises to be a dramatic soliloquy. *if discretion > 50 *set exposure +1 "Listen to me," you say, grabbing her by the forearm. "You know nothing of what I speak. There truly is evil in this world…" "Let me go!" she demands. "Let her go!" says several individuals who have cottoned on to what is transpiring. "Even now, one of its foremost incarnation is stalking this city, seeking to bring down its defenders!" By this point, two men have interposed themselves, and are loudly demanding you release the woman. Finally, you relent. *else *if religious_tradition = "pagan" "Yes, sorry, I know my peoples' ways can be inscrutable to the colonists." "We're not all as bad as that," she replies. "Some of us think that we have quite a lot to learn from the natives." You grit your teeth at that. "Yes, I'm aware that you think that." If there was the oppotunity to revive the conversation, that managed to kill it. *if religious_tradition != "pagan" "Yes, sorry, I @{priest know my faith can seem stuffy and out-of-date to those possessed by modern attitudes|know my dedication to my faith can be off-putting to those who deny Our Father in Heaven.}" "It's alright," she says, seeking to smooth over the waters of social decorum. "Just a misunderstanding. Good evening." "Good evening to you." The rest of the evening results in no further conversations of interest. *return *if (stlouis_cult) #"I am, in fact, seeking to create a better world, here in St. Louis…" [Endeavor to recruit for your cult.] *set exposure +1 With those words, you start to share some of the details of your little society. *if laborvscapital > 60 *set stlouis_cult_power %+10 Several of your interlocutors are enthralled at the possibilities and immediately inquire as to when your next gathering will be. You promise them that you will not disappoint. *return *elseif laborvscapital > 45 *set stlouis_cult_power %+5 A few of your interlocutors are curious about the possibilites and inquire as to when your next gathering will be. You promise them that you will not disappoint. *return *else *set exposure +1 Your attempts at couching your theology in terms of economic struggle, however, rings hollow. Moreover, your listeners have no patience for your imprecision and immediately begin to criticize the underpinnings of your argument. Whatever interest you had captured has now dissipated. The rest of the evening results in no further conversations of interest. *return *label nola_hangings As Reconstruction was repealed and freedmen fled Jim Crow, Southern business owners sought a new source of labor. Long derided as the detritus of Europe, Italians—particularly southern Italians—were recruited to fill those roles. Not unlike the Irish before them, the Italians were greeted with a certain amount of hostility, a hostility that only grew with their numbers. Between their Catholicism and their refusal to be treated like slaves, they give the Protestant elites paroxysms. In particular, the language used to describe blacks begins to be turned against Italians: they are derided as subhuman, unfeeling, lacking in familial devotion, criminally-natured, and other such invectives. When the Chief of Police in New Orleans is murdered in October, the city is turned inside out as the police arrest every Italian they can find, blaming the whole population for his murder. Eventually, nineteen individuals connected with various extortion gangs are arraigned for his murder. When the first mass trial of the arrestees ends with six acquittals and three mistrials, the white elites are whipped into a froth by the newspapers, threatening the total dissolution of society should these near-blacks be allowed to get away with murder. On March 14th, a mob attacks the Parish Prison—led by a recently-convened Committee on Safety—and though the prison guards free the prisoners and urge them to hide, eleven of the nineteen are found and murdered by the mob. The newspapers introduce a new word to the American zeitgeist: [i]mafia[/i]. The term begins to be used to describe Italian criminality, with every crime committed by an Italian now attributed to a [i]mafioso[/i]. *return *label arbitrage During the depths of January, a precious metals speculator—Terrell Huntington Smith—comes to St. Louis, offering investors the opportunity to profit from the oversights built into the Silver Purchase Act. The speculator is able to purchase silver from the recently discovered Creede lode. The silver ore, once delivered to the US Treasury, can be sold for gold dollars. Finally, because the abundance of silver dollars is depressing the value of the notional dollar, the gold dollars can be sold on the metals market for more than their face value. The difficult part of this scheme is securing the Treasury's attention. The office is required to buy a certain amount of silver, but there is plenty of silver to go around; the purchasing agents must be incentivized. Mr. Smith claims to have the connections to assure that his silver is purchased; if only he had the capital to initiate the process. You have heard of this arbitrage trade; several individuals have already made small fortunes from it. You muse on the idea while Mr. Smith turns the brim of his hat in his hands. *if (stlouis_enterprise = 2) "Terrell Huntington Smith of Denver. Are you related to Soapy Smith?" Smith shifts his weight. "He's my older brother." Soapy Smith is a renowned gangster and con man in Denver; his name is repeated with awe in certain circles of St. Louis. "And do you practice the same confidence games as your brother?" "I…this ain't a con, ${sir}. I'm tryin' to go legit." "By bribing government officials and exploiting a legal loophole?" "If I don' do it, sumbody else weel." That's a point that's hard to argue with; someone else most certainly will. *elseif (perception > 2) "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Mr. Smith?" "$!{sir}, I know that my brother's name is a cloud over me, but I promise you that there is no deception here." "Your brother?" "Soapy Smith?" You are unfamiliar with the name, but you play it off with a knowing "Ah, yes." You later learn that Soapy Smith is a well-established criminal boss and confidence man in Denver; it is said that he has all of Colorado under his thumb. "What sort of return on investment do you anticipate?" "Thems pullin' the silver outta the ground as fast as they can manage. Once it's dug up, we'll take it to Denver to be refined and then deposited with the Assay Office there, in exchange for gold dollars. Then I take the dollars back across the street to the smelter, melt them down, and sell the bullion for a profit to an Englishman, who will take possession of it at his office in Denver and ship it to Europe. "More money means more silver, which means more profit. I 'spect I can get you 30% by the end of the year. Or 12% if you want out by August. Going for that second round is where the real money will be made." You consider the terms. They are not unattractive. *choice #Turn him away; exploiting the monetary system like this is madness. *set shepherd_credentials %-5 *set discretion %-5 *set laborvscapital %+5 You turn Mr. Smith away, chastising him for the damage he does to the monetary system with his schemes. *if priest "An here I reckoned that all the fathers and brothers and such were as venal as the ones I grew up around. Good on you, I guess." *else "I never reckoned on meeting a @{male man|woman} of principle such as yu'self. It's like yer from another time." *return #Kill him. *set smith_dead true *set compassion %+5 *set discretion %+5 You can taste the deceit in his blood. It's unclear whether he was seeking to swindle you, but the predisposition clearly ran deep. *return *selectable_if (wealth > 100000) #I'll contribute $1000 to his scheme. *set wealth -24000 *set arbitrage_investment 24000 *goto smith_thanks *selectable_if (wealth > 500000) #I'll contribute $2500 to his scheme. *set wealth -60000 *set arbitrage_investment 60000 *goto smith_thanks *selectable_if (wealth > 1000000) #I'll contribute $10,000 to his scheme. *set wealth -120000 *set arbitrage_investment 120000 *label smith_thanks *set laborvscapital %-5 You sign the contracts and the bank drafts. Terrell's eyes are wide at the prospect. He promises to check back with you in July, to update you on his progress and to offer the chance to withdraw your money. *return *label rerum_novarum "The pope is meddling in our affairs again!" young Mr. Fields proclaims. "It's disgusting!" Miss Weeks replies. "How dare he?" Miss Burks enjoins. You find yourself in the salon of the Peery family. The whole community is angered by the recent proclamation by the pope that workers have the right to form unions and to demand collective recognition. *choice #"This is an affront to our national interests. The pope has no place to opine on business dealings!" *set laborvscapital %-5 *set justice %+5 "Just so, ${mr} ${surname}!" Miss Weeks agrees. #"The pope sullies himself and his Church by involving himself in material affairs. We should expect nothing less." *set rationalism %-5 There are nods all around at this. #"Perhaps he is not wrong? There is a cost when workers show up malnourished, underslept, or inebriated.…" *if laborvscapital < 35 *set laborvscapital %+5 Your attempt at peace-making is met with scowls. "If a worker is malnourished, underslept, or inebriated, he is obviously unfit for the job and should be replaced," snaps a young Miss Weeks. "This poor worker was probably up too late saying his 'Hail Marys,'" chuckles Miss Burks. #"Has no one else noticed the influx of Italians to these shores? They have infiltratred our farms and factories, and now they receive their orders to overtake us from within!" *set discretion %+5 *if charm > 2 *set stlouis_race_relations %-5 The room is set abuzz by these insinuations. The threat of the [i]mafiosi[/i] has put everyone one edge. "What will Gould do, now that the Knights of Labor have the blessing of the pope to engage in rebellion?" young Mr. Peery ventures. "Have you met Mr. Preston?" Miss Burks asks. "I have! Quite an upstanding fellow!" Peery replies. @{stl_met_preston "I must agree," you chime in.|You wonder who this Preston fellow is.} "The Pinkertons really are a blessing. You heard what they did in Chicago?" Weeks asks. "Masterful, really. Turning the anarchists and socialists against one another!" Fields observers. "Too bad about that police officer. But he died in the line of duty," Burks interjects. "I'm sure his children will be taken care of," Peery says. "It's the least the Pinkertons can do." From what you can divine, the Pinkertons engaged in some scheme that provoked violence among or between different worker factions. A police officer died in the conflict, but numerous agitators were arrested and convicted for their involvement. *choice #"These tactics are a bit much, don't you think? The socialists will fail because they are wrong. There is no need for skulduggery." *set discretion %-5 *set justice %+5 "Oh, ${mr} ${surname}, I know you are young, but you must believe me that I have seen the damage caused by the uprisings in 1848. I spent a whole year at school in Heidelberg. There are still several factories that they have left standing, gutted by the workers's attacks, to remind everyone of the damage that socialists can do." Usually, it is vampires that call you young, not mortals whose grandparents are your peers. But you smile and nod at the patronizing remark, resisting the urge to put young Master Peery in his place. *if (stl_met_preston) #"I am certain that the Pinkertons will be able to quell any schemes that the Knights of Labor might initiate." *set local_fame %+5 *set laborvscapital %-5 "Quite so!" exclaims Mr. Fields. "Have you heard if dear Jerome is married?" Miss Burks inquires. Miss Weeks's eyes go wide at the question. You idly wonder what her interest is. #"All of these malcontents should be jailed so they do not infect their neighbors with their ideas. You never know when their greed will spark violence." *set laborvscapital %-10 *set discretion %+5 You cannot help but draw parallels between the anger that the workers feel towards the wealthy and the anger mortals would feel against vampires should they discover your existence. Only by actively suppressing those who would do you harm will you survive. The conversation soon turns to more pleasant topics@{(stl_electricity > 5) —the upcoming purse at the inaugural South Side night-time horserace|}. *return *label letter_from_annie One evening, you receive a letter from Annie Jones. In it, she expresses dismay at the state of her marriage. She asserts that Dick has become more violent when in his cups. On the bright side, the circus will be returning to St. Louis in June. She concludes the letter: [i]I look forward with a full heart to what surprises your embrace holds for me,[/i] *line_break [i]—Annie[/i] You fold the letter back up, and tap it absently in your other hand. *choice *if (charm > 3) #Perhaps I can compel him to keep his hands to himself. *set discretion %-5 #Annie's marital difficulties are her own business. She will have to deal with them herself. *set discretion %-10 *set compassion %-5 #It's nearly the 20th Century and Annie has her own source of income. If she wants to divorce her husband, she should! *set anachronism %+3 #I may have to deal with Dick Elliot myself. *set discretion %+5 Looking down once again, you consider whether to write back. *choice #Of course! And I do my best to express the depths of my feelings for her. *if creation > 1 You spend that evening and the next composing your response, seeking always @{(speaks_french or (intelligence > 1)) [i]le mot juste[/i]|the perfect phrase}. *else You quickly @{literate compose|dictate} a response. You fold the letter, seal it, and direct ${stlouis_valet} to convey it to the post. #I play hard-to-get. I do not want her thinking that I am her plaything. *if creation > 1 You spend that evening and the next composing your response, seeking always @{(speaks_french or (intelligence > 1)) [i]le mot juste[/i]|the perfect phrase}. *else You quickly @{literate compose|dictate} a response. You find it challenging to convey your interest while refraining from direct flirtation, but you think you have successfully struck a balance between the two. You fold the letter, seal it, and direct ${stlouis_valet} to convey it to the post. #I let the letter go unanswered. *set stlouis_affair 7 Why should you pursue a tortured correspondence with a married circus performer? Nothing useful will come of this flirtation. You leave this latest letter unanswered, and the several that follow. Eventually, they cease. You suspect that she finally grasps the meaning of your silence. *return *label racing_by_night *comment https://www.newspapers.com/image/138127915/?terms=south%20side&match=1 *set anachronism %+1 *temp box false *temp bleachers "bleachers" *if (local_fame > 45) or (feeding_style = "socialites") *set box true *set bleachers "box" The South Side Racetrack recently found itself floundering. To the surprise of everyone, a group of investors bought the track, installed electrical arclights, and have announced the first-ever nighttime horse race. To date, horse racing has been a pasttime for the wealthy and the degenerate: the wealthy came to mix with the owners of the horses—to see and be seen—while the degenerate came to bet on the horses while shirking their other obligations. The prospect of nighttime races, however, opens the sport up to the casual observer: the workingman can come after a day in the factory and find excitement before bed. You wouldn't miss it for the world. *page_break A Night At The Races The arclights cast a peculiar glow over the field. @{(discretion < 60) Some animalistic part of you fears that they will burst into flame at any moment.|} But the effect is magnificent: the crowd can see the track with ease. Even the horses seem to know that this is a different crowd: several of them prance under the admiration. Of course, the bookmakers are out in force, taking bets from all comers. Moreover, there's a big purse to be won this evening; $500 for the five-furlong race. *if feeding_style = "gamblers" *set bloodflow +2 This whole affair is wonderful news for you; it expands your potential for prey immeasurably. Before, you had to search out underground keno parlors when you wanted a real thrill; now, you simply buy a ticket and have your pick of the attendees. *else With this innovation, you can see how feeding from gamblers and other risk-takers will be immeasurably easier. *if box Thanks to one of your friends in the upper crust of St. Louis, you are granted entrée to one of the premier boxes. From here, you have an unimpeded view of the track, with no excitables in your way. *else While the night caters to the workers of St. Louis, the élite are not neglected. Several boxes sit front-and-center for those who can afford them, making those who sit there the focus of gossip and attention. *if stl_met_tilles Looking about, you spy Cap Tilles, the salesman from the cigar concession at the Southern Hotel. After a few pointed questions to an effusive stranger, you learn that Tilles recently organized the purchase of this race track. He and his partner own the enterprise outright. Now that you know what to look for, you spy a cigar concession here as well. It seems the tobacco business has been treating Tilles well. The first race is between Boodle, Billy C., Comanche, Billy Coleman, and Spot. Boodle is favored to win, followed by Billy C.; the other three have equal odds of winning. To the delight of everyone, the far side of the track is just out of the range of the lights; therefore, for a brief moment, the crowd is unable to distinguish the action. When Spot comes back into view at the head of the pack, the crowd is lets out a cheer of surprise and delight. Because it's a "selling" race, Spot is immediately put up for auction. *temp race 1 *label rig_loop *comment use mediums as a way to influence the results here. *choice #That was enough excitement for one night. No need to press my luck. *set discretion %-5 You return home, invigorated by the night air and the excitement of the other patrons. *return *if bloodflow < 5 *if ((feeding_style != "gamblers") and (stl_pig_farm = false)) #I think this is the answer to my feeding difficulties. *set feeding_style "gamblers" *set bloodflow +2 You find one particular young man, clutching his betting slips, watching his imagined future slide out of his grasp. You introduce yourself and soon sink your fangs into his neck. One more tragedy to add to his evening. *return *if (box and (stl_met_tilles = false)) #I want to make the acquaintance of someone important. *set stl_met_tilles true *set local_fame %+5 Thanks to your position in a box, you are able to meet almost anyone you want. This evening, your target is one of the owners of the track: Andrew "Cap" Tilles. He's a salesman through-and-through, though his money comes from cigars; only recently has he taken any interest in horse racing. (You certainly set tongues wagging when you are seen occupying Tilles's attention for nearly half and hour.) *if (box = false) #I use this opportunity to make friends with some of the more esteemed members of St. Louis society. With grit and determination, you pinpoint a young man with access to one of the boxes. While he is in the bathroom, you "bump" into him. *if (charm + streetwise) >= 5 *set local_fame %+5 *if charm > 3 *set local_fame %+5 *set discretion %+3 A comedy of errors ensues, and he is thoroughly charmed. Soon, he is introducing you to his friends in the box. You seize the opportunity to make the acquaintance of anyone and everyone you can. *else *set exposure +1 Unfortunately, you are not quite as clever or charming as you imagined. Instead of being invited into the young man's box, you end up being accused of being a pickpocket. You flee the track before you have to answer any unwelcome questions. *return *if (false) #I want to buy myself a race horse. *comment TODO Spot is a white horse with a large black spot around his left eye. It makes him look like a one-eyed cartoon bandit…or a pirate. #I want to bet on the race. *set discretion %-3 *set wealth +12000 The odds favor Jim Dougherty heavily. With no knowledge of the horses or jockeys, you see no reason to reject consensus. You bet $500 on Jim D. and he wins. You claim your winnings and return home. #I want to win some money…unethically. How do you want to rig the race? Odds are on Jim Dougherty to win. *choice #Nevermind, I don't want to rig the race. *goto rig_loop *if shapeshifting > 0 *selectable_if (shapeshifting > 1) #@{(shapeshifting > 1) I urge the horses to let Little Mamie, the filly, win the race.|I can't yet command the horses to let one of their number win.} *set race 2 You whisper a few sweet nothings to the horses and then return to the fairground proper. The odds on Little Mamie are 6-to-1; a victory by her will be lucrative. You bet $500 and take a seat in the bleachers. *if (streetwise > 0) #Someone here must be willing to tinker with Jim Dougherty or his jockey. *if streetwise > 1 *set race 3 You find a groom willing to slip a burr under Jim Dougherty's saddle. It should be noxious enough to result in his loss without causing a ruckus. *else Alas, given the short time-frame, you're unable to make contact with anyone willing to interfere with the race. You return to the bleachers to watch the event unfold. *if ((stealth > 0) and oblivio) #I find Jim Dougherty's jockey and buy him a drink—and then make him forget he ever saw me. *set race 4 You slip into the clubhouse with a flask of whiskey. The jockey looks at you suspiciously, but is only too happy to take a swig or three of whiskey. You use the [i]verba oblivionis[/i] before departing. Returning to the bleachers, you wait for the event to unfold. *if (stlouis_enterprise = 8) #Jockeys are a superstitious lot; I orchestrate an ill-omen for Jim Dougherty's jockey. *set race 5 Between a ladder over the door and a black cat in his path, the jockey is clearly rattled by his journey to the track. You return to the bleachers and wait for the event to unfold. *page_break *if race = 1 As expected, Jim Dougherty wins the race. The night concluded, you return to your haven. *elseif race = 2 *set wealth +72000 As expected, Little Mamie wins. You pocket your windfall and skedaddle before anyone is the wiser. *else *set wealth +18000 With Jim Dougherty out of the way, El Pretas—the second favorite—wins. You collect your winnings and retire to your haven. *return *label new_disciple *comment if stl_cult You've just finished @{stlouis_cult_celebration leading your flock in an extended session of meditation and contemplation|delivering a dramatic sermon|leading your flock in an epic indulgence of the senses|sharing your blood with your most devout disciples} when Amanda interrupts. "${stlouis_cult_address}!" "Yes?" you reply. "We have a new disciple, one that shows great promise." Beside her is a young man, still awkward and gangly, but burning with a fire within. "What's your name, son?" "My momma calls me ${stl_kid_name}, but everyone else calls me ${stl_kid_nick}." *if stl_kid_origin < 5 After a moment's pause and realization, you remark: "We've met before. @{stl_kid_origin KID UNDEFINED|You tried to pick my pocket at the circus!|You had a shoe-shine stand outside the Golden Lion.|Your eyes never left me during the campaign for the park.|ERROR}" "Yes, ${sir}. I was a wee thing then. When I saw you here, I couldn't believe my luck. That's when I knew that I belonged at Amanda's side." *if stl_kid_origin = 5 "Where are you folks, ${stl_kid_nick}?" "The wolf-man killed my pops years ago. My sisters too. It was just me an' my mom, but she's at the Lunatic Asylum now." "Where did you say you were from?" "Ste. Genevieve, ${stlouis_cult_address}." "My condolences. I heard about that attack. I'm glad to know that you've managed to persevere." "That I have," he says with a grin. "${stl_kid_nick} has been a great help these past few months, ${stlouis_cult_address}," Amanda confirms. "Welcome, child. You have found your home." "Yes, ${stlouis_cult_address}. And I'm so glad to be here." *return *label intro_to_ragtime It's the music that calls you forward. *comment 1892 The Silver Dollar Saloon sits in the middle of South 12th, near Poplar Street, but the music carries in all directions. It's hard to ignore; the syncopated beats are unlike the staid waltzes or bouncy polkas practiced in ballrooms across the city. @{(anachronism > 60) The novelty of the sound intrigues you.| You suppress the urge to shudder at the chaos of it all.} You open the door and are greeted by a blast of sound and a cloud of smoke. The room is full of people laughing, drinking, and dancing, while a solitary piano player animates the room. *choice #I sit and listen. It is so rare to hear something so new. *set anachronism %+5 The music continues until the rising sun calls you away. You feel your understanding of the world somehow broadened by the experience. *label ragtime *set heard_ragtime true Later, you will come to learn the name of that new sound: ragtime. #I care little for this new music. But where there's revelry, there's the opportunity to feed. Your efforts are well-rewarded; warm blood courses through your veins. @{(feeding_style = "drunks") You particularly enjoy the wobble of the moonshine.|} You wipe your mouth clean and continue on your way. *goto ragtime #Where there is drink, there is cards. *set wealth +250 *if (intelligence > 2) and (perception > 1) *set wealth +250 You find it difficult to tune out the music, but you must in order to concentrate on your adversaries. Before dawn, you take your winnings and set out for your resting place. *goto ragtime *if (choice_randomtest = false) #That way lies disorder. *set anachronism %-5 *set shepherd_credentials %-5 You let go of the door, muffling the sound. You turn and continue on your way. *return *label valet_date Of late, you have noticed a change in the demeanor of ${stlouis_valet}. Normally @{stlouis_valet_num gregarious|brusque|reserved|reserved}, ${valet_he} has become @{stlouis_valet_num downright effervescent|almost pleasant|almost personable|almost giddy}. It seems that ${valet_he} has a suitor. It has, of course, been difficult for ${valet_him} to have much of a life outside of serving you. $!{valet_he} must conduct business for you during the day and attend you at night. But somehow ${valet_he} has found a @{stlouis_valet_num woman|man|man|woman} that can accept that. *choice #${stlouis_valet} is entitled to a life; I give ${valet_him} a day off to enjoy the new relationship. *set compassion %-5 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %+10 *set independence %-5 ${stlouis_valet}'s eyes go wide with gratitude. @{heard_ragtime You even recommend the Silver Dollar Saloon to ${valet_him} for a destination.|} You can manage by yourself for an evening. #As long as it doesn't interfere with ${valet_his} duties, this is no business of mine. *set discretion %-5 Somehow, ${valet_he} manages to make the most of ${valet_his} spare time. You can't say that it doesn't impact ${valet_his} performance, but it's not enough to dismiss ${valet_him}. #${stlouis_valet} should have no loyalties or concerns outside of me! I demand that ${valet_he} end this affair. *set compassion %+5 *set discretion %-5 *set stlouis_valet_lover false It is too great a danger for ${stlouis_valet} to have a lover; what confidences might ${valet_he} share in the afterglow of passion? Your demand is met with silence. You do not see the suitor around again. #${stlouis_valet} should have no loyalties or concerns outside of me! I kill this suitor. *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %+10 *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %-25 *set stlouis_valet_lover false ${stlouis_valet} is understandably distraught over the murder of ${valet_his} lover. You make it clear, however, that you will brook no other loyalties. $!{valet_he} sets ${valet_his} jaw and nods in submission. *return *label arbitrage_first_exit *comment 1892-05-15 Mid-May, you receive a cable from Terrell Smith, confirming the success of the first delivery of gold to the English banker. The fluctuations in price have netted you an additional half a percent of profit. He urges you to leave your money with him for another six months—his brother Soapy has moved to Creede, and promises even more production—but acknowledges the obligation to let you be quit of the deal. *choice #Yes, let him keep the money for another six months. *set arbitrage_invested 4 *set laborvscapital %-5 You send your response immediately; you do not want your capital to lay idle! *return #No, I ask him to return my money now. *set arbitrage_invested 3 *set arbitrage_investment round(arbitrage_investment * 0.125) *set wealth +arbitrage_investment *set arbitrage_investment 0 You send your response with all due haste. Two weeks later, you receive a bank draft for the money owed. Terrell Huntington Smith was good to his word. *return *label lamentation_day *comment 1892-05-31 The lynchings of freedmen and freedwomen are announced almost daily in the newspapers of the nation. Some slight here, some imagined crime there, some intimation of initiative, talent, or prospects, and another life is snuffed out. In honor of the dead—and in a desperate call for peace—an association of prominent blacks@{met_wheeler_and_turner , including John Wheeler and James Milton Turner,|} call for a day of collective prayer and fasting to be held in St. Louis on May 31st. It is assigned the ominous appellation of Lamentation Day. Thousands of black folks—men and women, young and old, well-to-do and dirt poor—descend upon the city. They cover their heads with ashes, wear sackcloth for clothes, and beat their chests while issuing cries of sorrow. The demonstration of unity and solidarity is entirely ignored by the political elite of the city. *return *label annie_returns *comment June 6-11, 1892 *temp elliot_dead false *temp elliot_thwarted false *temp mandolin_broken false *temp tiger_trap false *temp performance false *temp medical_condition false When you wake on the evening of June 6th, the blood in your veins thrums with excitement. Annie has arrived. After attending to your toilette, you make your way to the circus. While en route, you can spot the lanterns illuminating the fairgrounds from nearly a mile away. It lightly rained this evening, and the water in the air joyfully reflects the light. Alighting from the coupé, you buy a ticket and slip into the crowds of the pike. The Museum tent and the Menagerie tent are both where they always are. Beyond the pike lay the tents of the performers. *page_break You while away an hour, waiting for Eliot and Jones to finish their act. You're there when it finishes, observing as the patrons file out of the tent, marveling over the juxtaposition of Annie's domestic prowess with the immensity of her beard. *if perception > 2 Around this time, you take note of Dick Elliot. Though he does an admirable job of disgusing it, you can sense that he is nearly green with jealousy. What's more, you suspect that he knows about your planned tryst with Annie. You follow him as he takes up a spot in full view of the proposed meeting place—he must have read your and Annie's letters! You have only a few moments before Annie arrives. *choice #I'm tired of this cretin. I drag him away and leave his body for the crows. *set elliot_dead true *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %+10 *if combat >= 5 *set elliot_thwarted true Thankfully, he's already done a good job of concealing himself. That makes it all the easier for you to assault him without fear of discovery. You find a knife on his corpse and use it to give him a few wounds that might explain his death to the coroner. You also make sure to nab his wallet and pocketwatch. The stage set, you leave the body and make your way to the rendezvous. *page_break *else *set exposure +1 *set stlouis_affair 4 Your attempt to catch Dick by surprise fails miserably, and you take a knife-would to the gut as thanks for your effort. If you were mortal, you suspect that you might be in serious danger. As it is, it simply makes you angry. You feel the rage of the hungering beast inside you. Dick sees that rage, and screams in terror. He stabs you several more times, but you silence him by tearing off his jaw and drinking from the fountain of blood that spurts from the now-empty hinge. His eyes are still wide with terror, watching as you multilate his body with your fangs. Unfortunately, the scream drew attention, and you can hear shouts from nearby. Dropping his body, you abandon your plans for the rendezvous and flee for your life. *return *if (charm > 3) #I send him away. *set discretion %-5 *set elliot_thwarted true You tap poor Dick on the shoulder and catch him with your gaze. "You're quite thirsty, aren't you, Dick?" He nods in agreement. Abandoning his stakeout, he wanders off in search of his favorite pastime. *if (choice_randomtest = false) #This is too much drama for me. Annie needs to deal with her husband herself. *set stlouis_affair 1 *set discretion %-10 You turn and leave the circus. You do not hear from Annie again. *return *if (shapeshifting > 1) #Isn't there a tiger cage around here? *set tiger_trap true Using the powers of your blood, you convince a tiger to listen to your needs. You release the tiger from its cage and tell it to hide in a box. It seems quite happy to hide in an empty crate. *page_break #Curious. I wonder what sort of confrontation he intends. I will meet Annie as planned and let him spring his trap. *set discretion %+3 You take your spot behind the tent of Mme. Sosostris. For a brief moment you wonder if Annie might not show, but all at once she appears in a flounce of ribbons and petticoats. Her mandolin is strapped to her back…perhaps she intends to romance you with a song? *temp used_powers false Pushing such thoughts of the future out of your mind, you reach out and take her by the hand, *if elliot_dead and (discretion > 60) but she pulls away just as quickly. "What is that?" she inquires. Looking at your hands, you note that you neglected to wipe your hands of Dick's blood. "Your husband's blood, I suspect." "I'm sorry…what did you say?" she replies, aghast. "Your husband. He was waiting to confront us. He must have been reading our correspondence. I killed him." Annie's eyes go wide. She screams…and then, she faints. @{(agility > 2) Thankfully, you catch her before you falls into the muck. You rest her gently on a nearby bale of hay.|You watch in slow-motion horror as she falls into the muck.} *page_break You realize that you did not actually disclose that you were an immortal, blood-drinking parasite. Perhaps dropping that morsel of news—in conjunction with the murder of her husband—was a bit inconsiderate? Regardless, you have a decision to make. The scream has attracted attention. You still have blood on your hands and possibly your clothes, and the body of Dick Elliot is…uncomfortably nearby. *choice #Time to make a hasty exit. *if agility < 3 *set exposure +1 *set exposure +1 *set stlouis_affair 1 *set discretion %-5 You give Annie one last, long look, before turning and hustling away. You doubt that you will be hearing from her again. *return *if perception > 1 *selectable_if (strength > 1) #I can sense that one of these nearby tents is unoccupied; I pick her up and carry her in. Lifting her up, you whisk her through the tent-flap. Inside, you find threadbare accommodations of what must be a clown: a pair of wigs rest on busts, and a cracked mirror with various cosmetics takes a prominent position in the space. You lay Annie on what passes for a bed and wait for her to awaken. *label annie_awakens *set exposure +2 *page_break "What sort of a monster are you?" Annie demands once her eyes have regained their focus. No point in being coy now. "A vampire." "And here I thought I'd seen it all." "I'm glad I could manage to surprise you." "Surprise me? When I said 'surprise me,' I meant with flowers or chocolate or a poem. Not with murdering my husband!" "Didn't you say he was…being violent with you?" "That was for me to handle, not you! How dare you?" "Here…let's go for a walk. You should take some fresh air. That will clear your head…" "My head is perfectly clear. I want nothing to do with you, ${given_name}. Please leave." You recoil as though slapped. *fake_choice #Enough of this ingratitude. I leave. *set discretion %-10 *set stlouis_affair 4 You turn and leave the tent. You will have no more dealings with Ms. Annie Jones. And good riddance. #Enough of this ingratitude. I drink her dry. *set discretion %+15 *set compassion %+10 *set stlouis_affair 5 When she sees your fangs extend, she begins to scream, but it's cut short by your fangs at her throat. You drink from her quickly, leaving her drained corpse on the clown's bed. So much for Ms. Annie Jones. *return *if (stealth > 3) #I use my powers of misdirection to portray myself as just another member of the circus. Responding to Annie's call, a handful of individuals appear. You mumble something about a man attacking her, and point in a random direction. Several of the individuals head off in the direction you indicated, while others help you lift Annie into a neighboring tent. Inside, you find threadbare accommodations of what must be a clown: a pair of wigs rest on busts, and a cracked mirror with various cosmetics takes a prominent position in the space. Soon, Annie is reclining on what passes for a bed. The others depart, trusting in your good intentions. *goto annie_awakens *if (stealth > 1) #I hide and wait to confront her after she awakens. Responding to Annie's call, a handful of individuals appear. They look about in confusion before dispersing in various directions. Several pick her up and convey her to a nearby tent that is currently unoccupied. Some ten minutes later, only one person remains with her. You enter the tent. Inside, you find threadbare accommodations of what must be a clown: a pair of wigs rest on busts, and a cracked mirror with various cosmetics takes a prominent position in the space. Annie has been placed on what passes for a bed. The sole other occupant, a young woman, looks up in surprise at your arrival. With a few honeyed words, you convince her to leave Annie in your care. *goto annie_awakens *elseif elliot_thwarted = false then sweep her into your arms. In a fit of pique, you lean forward for a kiss, and she kisses you back with abandon. "What the fuck is going on here?" @{(perception > 2) Dick|a voice} calls out. Your lips part with the sensation of your heart ripping in twain, and you turn to face Annie's @{male enraged|confused} spouse. *if male Elliot is holding a knife in his hand and he looks intent on using it. *if ethnicity = "african" "A darkie? Really, Annie? When I married you, you hated them just as much as I do." "Times change, Dick. People change," she retorts. *elseif ethnicity = "choctaw" "An injun? Really, Annie?" "Times change, Dick. People change," she retorts. *elseif (ethnicity = "irish") or (ethnicity = "spanish") "A papist? Really, Annie?" "Times change, Dick. People change," she retorts. *else "This is who you were meeting?" he intones. "Yes, Dick." "But…she's…a woman!" Annie rolls her eyes. "Really?" She turns to you. "You're a woman?" She grabs your skirt and petticoats and lifts them up, exposing your underwear. "Will you look at that! Not a cock to be found anywhere!" You chuckle at these theatrics. "Leave us alone, Dick." It's at this point that Elliot's anger overcomes his confusion. From within his coat he pulls out a knife and begins to advance on the two of you. *if tiger_trap *achieve tiger_trap *set used_powers true You've grown bored of Elliot's histrionics. You whistle. Dick and Annie both look at you in confusion. Then the tiger sticks its head up from the crate that it had been hiding in. "Dick, behind you," you say casually. "I'm not going to fall for that trick, you @{male bastard|bitch}. I'm going to show you that no one minds Dick Elliot's business but Dick Elliot!" With a small gesture, you encourage the tiger to roar. It obliges. "What the fuck?" Dick says as he looks over his shoulder. He drops the knife, stumbles a few steps, and then bolts. "Come here, dear," you say to the tiger. The tiger leaps out of the crate and approaches you. You scritch behind its ears. It thrums with hatred for you. If it thought, for even a moment, that it could kill you, it would…but you have shown it that you are its master. Annie looks at you with amazement. "Come, let us return our furry friend here to her cage, and then we can continue our evening." Taking Annie by the hand, you lead the tiger back to its wagon. Its keeper is beside himself with worry, and also watches in wonderment as you direct it back into its dwelling. "I suppose I have something to tell you, Annie," you begin. *goto annie_disclose_vampire You could step back and let Annie try and talk him down; she might appreciate that. Alternatively, if you're fast enough and have enough control over your beast, you can interject yourself and fall on his knife. A few jabs and he'll probably assume that he's killed you. If you don't lose your temper and rip his throat out, that should put the fear of the law into some part of his brain. *choice *if (oblivio) #I use the [i]verba oblivionis[/i] to allow us to escape. *set discretion %-5 *set used_powers true "Forget!" you command, looking him dead in the eye. Dick looks around, confused. You seize Annie by the hand and flee out of his sight. *page_break *goto annie_disclose_vampire *if (charm > 3) #I direct him to leave. *set discretion %-10 *set used_powers true "Why don't you just leave us alone, Mr. Elliot?" "Yeah, sure, okay," he replies. He puts away the knife and wanders off. Annie looks at you in disbelief. "What just happened?" "I suppose I have something to tell you, Annie." "Come, let us go somewhere more private," she says, leading you into a nearby tent. Thankfully, it is unoccupied. *goto annie_disclose_vampire #I attempt to interject myself and let Dick stab me. *if (willpower > 2) and (agility > 1) *set performance true You practically throw yourself on Elliot's knife. Once there, he withdraws and stabs you several more times. *if creation > 1 You cry out in pain and dismay, collapsing into Annie's arms as she shrieks in horror. *achieve a_dramatic_end "Please, Annie, remember me…" you whisper hoarsely. "And you—" you begin, raising your voice imperiously, "—Dick Elliot! The man who murdered me! I—" you interject a fake cough here, "—I curse you! I curse you with my dying breath…" Several other members of the circus have been drawn to the commotion at this point, and witness your final, dramatic exhalation and subsequent collapse into Annie's arms. Peeking out from your lidded eyes, you watch as Elliot drops his knife and flees into the night. Annie sobs over your body. She leans down and kisses your cold lips. After a moment, you begin to kiss her back. She startles back. "And with a kiss, thou hast restored life to my broken body…" You stand, taking Annie's hand in yours to guide her up, and then lead her in a mud-covered bow. The audience—and Annie—are deeply confused, but once one person starts to clap, several others do as well. *page_break "But he stabbed you!" Annie exclaims. "And your lips are still so cold…" she mutters under her breath. The crowd has dispersed and Elliot is nowhere to be found. They were a bit confused as to why Dick didn't take a bow with you and Annie, but they were not curious enough to pursue an answer to that question. "I suppose I have something to tell you, Annie." *goto annie_disclose_vampire *else You grunt and try to play the role of a mortally wounded foe. You collapse to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Annie begins screaming "Murder!" at the top of her lungs, and @{(perception > 1) you sense|through you slitted eyelids you spy} Elliot fleeing into the night. When he is gone, you stand. Annie screams again in surprise. "It's okay, Annie, I was just pretending…" *page_break By that point, several individuals had appeared in response to Annie's first cries, and then her scream, and it took some doing to assure them that you were fine but that Richard Elliot was most certainly guilty of some form of vile wickedness. You make the dubious assertion that the mud is disguising your wounds, an assertion that would not be accepted were Annie any calmer. For the moment, though, the crowd takes you at your word and sets off in search of the culprit. "I simply don't understand, ${given_name}. Dick stabbed you!" "I suppose I have something to tell you, Annie." *goto annie_disclose_vampire *elseif agility > 1 *set stlouis_affair 4 *set elliot_dead true *set exposure +1 You interject yourself gracefully, but when the knife pierces your abdomen a third and then a fourth time, you begin to lose control of your temper. How dare this puny mortal stab you? Your eyes flash, your fangs extend, and a spray of blood fills the night with the scent of iron. *page_break When you lift your eyes from your midnight snack, you find Annie pressed against the hay bales, trying to make herself look small. "Annie…" you say. Her eyes go even wider with terror. "Please, ${given_name}…don't kill me…" Not that you had intended to kill her. But she's clearly beside herself at the revelation of your condition. *label annie_pissed You could be merciful and let her live, but that would surely complicate things for you down the road. *choice #I kill her. *set compassion %+10 *set discretion %-10 *set stlouis_affair 5 You perform the deed without pleasure. The preservation of your existence is worth more than the brief guttering of her life's flame. *return #I spare her. *set compassion %-10 *set exposure +2 You cannot bring yourself to murder Annie. @{elliot_dead Bewildered, you can recognize when you're no longer wanted. You excuse yourself and disappear into the night.|With tears of blood streaming down your face, you flee into the night.} *return *if (charm > 3) #I spare her, but first I enjoin her to never speak of me again. *set compassion %-10 *set discretion %-5 With a few potent words, you elicit a promise to never speak of you again in her life. You sigh as you leave. You wonder what great love could have been between you, had things gone differently. *return *else You do you best to interpose yourself, but aren't quite fast enough. But not matter, as Annie draws herself up to her full height—the beard certainly helps with her sense of gravitas—and confronts her husband. *goto annie_stands_up #This is Annie's husband; I let her handle this. *set discretion %-10 Annie draws herself up to her full height; the beard certainly helps with her sense of gravitas. *label annie_stands_up "Richard, stop this nonsense right now!" Richard stops short. The light of the lanterns and torches dances along the length of his blade. "This is my business! And someone else has been minding it!" "Maybe if you'd done a better job, I wouldn't have needed to find someone else, Dick." It's at about this time that you notice Annie angling herself into a different position. In fact, she's kind of…pacing back and forth in front of Dick and his knife. This might have something to do with an empty bottle of ${budweiser} that's somehow found itself in the mud between them. "You're gunna go back to your tent, Annie, and I'm going to teach this @{male bastard|bitch} not to mess with Dick Elliot." "Oh? Are you? That's funny. You can't get it together to touch me…why should either of us think that you can lay a finger on my dear friend here?" *set mandolin_broken true "I'll show you!" he says, lunging forward. Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed the beer bottle. He steps on it and it throws him just off-balance enough that Annie's mandolin has enough time to connect with the side of Dick's head. Dick crumples to the ground with a moan. Annie picks up the knife and throws it away. "I want a divorce, Dick," she says before spitting in his face. Her husband vanquished, she takes you by the hand and leads you into the night. *goto annie_date #No good can come from this confrontation. I turn and flee. *set stlouis_affair 6 *set discretion %-15 *set compassion %+5 One step back, two…then you turn and run. Annie cries out for you, but then she grunts. You don't look back. *page_break A few nights later, you open the newspapers to see the story of the murder of Annie Jones taking top billing. According to reports, her husband stumbled upon a tryst between her and a local @{male man and|man—of course he couldn't admit that he'd been cuckolded by a woman!—and} she died in the conflict. Because of the laws on violence between spouses in Missouri—and the presence of letters attesting to a relationship between Annie and some third party—Richard is acquitted of all charges. *return *else and sweep her into your arms. In a fit of pique, you lean forward for a kiss, and she kisses you back with abandon. "Oh, ${given_name}, how I've missed you," she says when your lips finally part. "And I you, Annie," you reply. *goto annie_date *label annie_date *page_break You wend through the tents and wagons, looking for an opportunity to steal some privacy. In exasperation, Annie finally leads you to a handful of wagons that apparently serve as a movable brothel. With nary a blush nor a batted eyelid, Annie negotiates some time with the usual occupant. Slipping inside, the two of you close the door and finally have some peace and quiet. *if mandolin_broken "I had intended to sing a song for you, but…" "Do you still remember the words?" "Of course!" "Why don't you sing it for me anyway?" "But…well, if you insist." *else "I brought my mandolin…to sing a song for you." "By all means!" you exclaim. *if waiting_on_the_war *achieve memories_memories *set memories true And with that, she launches into a rendition of "Waiting on the War," that song you composed for Silas Hope so many years ago. Her voice is light and pure and strikes you to your core. The blood begins to well in your eyes. When she finishes, she looks at your blood-streaked face in confusion. "Oh, heavens! What's wrong? There's blood everywhere!" You pick up a rag and dab your face. "Annie, there's something I need to tell you." *else She sings a sweet song—an original composition, you suspect—about waiting for her lover to come home after a long journey. It plucks at your heart-strings. When she finishes, she @{mandolin_broken shifts uncomfortably, lacking the confidence of her instrument|smiles and fidgets with her instrument}. "That was beautiful, Annie." "I've always wanted to be a songwriter, but Dick and P.T. want me to play standards. All the time, play the standards. 'Don't make the audience any more uncomfortable than they already are, Annie.' I don't know why they're all so uncomfortable. I'm a woman who has a beard. Joe has three arms. We're all people." "Well, not all of us," you begin, timidly. "What do you mean?" "I have something to tell you, Annie…" you begin. *label annie_disclose_vampire *page_break *temp vampire_disclosed false What do you intend to tell Annie? *choice #Everything. She deserves to know what she's getting involved with. *set vampire_disclosed true "I'm a vampire," you begin. "A…vampire?" "Yes." "You mean, you sleep a lot during the day? And like to brood a lot and seduce beautiful people?" "And drink their blood, yes." "Do not toy with me, ${given_name}." "I am not, Annie. Here—" you say, grasping her wrist. You hold her hand to your breast. "—there's no beat. My heart has not moved in eight decades." The look of disbelief turns slowly to one of shock and then dismay as she realizes that you speak the truth. "But…that's…impossible!" "If only that were true, my dear." *page_break You converse until it is nearly dawn. She asks you the sorts of questions you might expect. @{memories She is brought to tears herself when you tell her that you wrote the song she sang for you; that you wrote it for a young man who did not return to you. She holds your hand in companionable silence for a long time after that. Eventually, conversation resumes, and you speak of lighter things.|} Eventually, the sun begins to sing in your veins, and you note that you will need to leave soon. "First, I…I want to feel you. I want to feel you inside me, ${given_name}." Needing no further invitation, you extend your fangs. Cradling her head gently in your hand, you push her beard aside and sink them into her neck. She gasps, and you begin to drink. Not enough to endanger her, but enough to give her a sense of the ecstasy that can come from your bloody kiss. Licking the wound, you bring her unfocused eyes in line with yours. "I must go now, Annie." Her eyes regain their focus. She is hungry—for you. Her hands run up your head and into your hair and she pulls you in for another kiss. "Really, I must go," you say, and pry her hands away from you. "But I will return, I promise." "We're here all week, ${given_name}," she says. *goto second_tryst *selectable_if (used_powers = false) #@{used_powers The thought crosses my mind to blame what she just saw on a medical condition, but she would never believe me.|I try to pass the things she's seen off as a medical condition.} *set medical_condition true "I have a medical condition. It makes me quite allergic to the sun—" you pause, "—as well as being given to fits of rage." *if performance "And that's why you could withstand those blows from Dick's knife?" "Exactly!" "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of! Most of the performers around here have medical conditions! Have you considered touring with a circus? I'm sure we could get you work…" You interrupt her with a wave of your hand. *if male and (discretion > 55) "I'm not interested in being put on display." "What do you mean?" "I have no interest in being gawked at by every Tom, Dick, and Harry that pays their nickel for the privilege. I would never debase myself in such a manner." "And what of me? Do you think I debase myself?" You stop short. Perhaps you chose your words poorly. "That's not what I meant." "I think that's exactly what you meant. You think it's fine for me to perform for an audience, but it would be debasing for you." "I think this has gone far enough, ${given_name}." "Annie, be serious." Her eyes flash with anger. "I am quite serious. Goodbye, ${given_name}." "But…" you stutter as she flees into the night. *if elliot_dead You have to wonder what her reaction will be once she learns that her husband is dead. No matter, you suppose. She's made her lack of interest quite clear. *return *else "I don't think I have your fortitude. And, besides, I'm quite content with my home here." "I understand. Living in a tent for most of the year, moving from town to town…it's certainly not for everyone." "And just think how easily I'd be exposed to sunlight by some mistake…you don't want to know what happens when I am!" She takes your hand in hers. "Tell me more. I want to know everything about you, ${given_name}." You talk until the rising sun begins to sing in your veins. "We're here all week. You'll be back, won't you?" Leaning in, you kiss her goodbye. "Without a doubt." *goto second_tryst #I try to deflect the conversation into one about my love for her. Your honeyed words must have done the trick. She wants to believe you—and when someone wants to believe someone, they have a tendency to throw reason by the wayside. You spend the rest of the night in flirtatious discourse. When the sun begins to sing in your veins, the two of you exchange a passionate kiss before you excuse yourself. "We're here all week, you know," she notes. "Then I suppose you'll see me tomorrow, Ms. Jones." *goto second_tryst *if (elliot_dead) #I inform her that her husband is dead. Perhaps she'll thank me? *set discretion %+5 *set stlouis_affair 1 Rather than thank you, she is abjectly horrified. "You…murdered…Dick?" "Yes. I mean, he was waiting to ambush us. He was going to try and murder you or me." "I could have taken care of my husband, you animal!" "Animal?" you exclaim. "Go! Leave me! I never want to see you again!" she screams at you. It seems you have a decision to make. *goto annie_pissed *label second_tryst *page_break *temp token "nothing" *temp tokenn true *temp it "it" You arrive at the fairgrounds the following evening. Did you stop along the way to acquire a token of your affection? *fake_choice #Yes, a bouquet of flowers. *set token "bouquet" *set it "them" #Yes, a single rose. *set token "rose" #Yes, a new mandolin. *set token "mandolin" *selectable_if (wealth > 50000) #Yes, a diamond necklace. *set wealth -25000 *set token "necklace" #Yes, a jug of ${budweiser}. *set token "jug" #No, I brought her nothing. *set tokenn false @{tokenn You heft your ${token} nervously. Will she like it?|} *if elliot_dead Of course, a @{tokenn bigger|} concern might be the corpse of her husband which you left for her yesterday evening. Should you have disposed of it in some other manner? No matter now, the die has been cast. Arriving at her tent, you find it draped in black. A handful of individuals stand around, whispering in hushed tones. When she sees you, she grabs you by the hand and pulls you inside. "Oh, thank heavens," she mutters under her breath. "What happened?" you ask, feigning ignorance. "Dick was murdered last night." *if vampire_disclosed She pauses. "Did you have something to do with that?" Seeing no further point in lying, you confess: "I did." "Why would you do such a thing?" "He intended to murder you. Or me. Hard to say, really. But he must have intercepted our letters, because he knew where we were going to meet." She pauses. "I feared he'd found them. But he never said anything, so I couldn't tell if my fears were getting the better of me or not." "Perhaps I should have just scared him off…." "Is this what happens when you live for eighty years? You lose track of right and wrong?" "At a certain point, it does become difficult to remember to not to treat you like food, yes." *if tokenn She considers her predicament. "Is that for me?" she asks, gesturing towards your gift. "It is!" you say, revealing the ${token}. Her face lights up. "Well, you certainly know how to cheer up a newly-minted widow, ${given_name}." "It is my pleasure," you reply. "Too bad you're the reason for it." "You can win them all," you rejoin. She stills once again. "This leaves me rather unsettled." "I suppose that's natural. Can you forgive me?" "As much as it fills me with fear, what can I say? You were fulfilling your nature. Who am I, of all people, to judge for that?" "I knew you would understand." "Come. Let us find a better place to speak, away from these busybodies." With that, she leads you out of her tent, past the busybodies, and into the night. *else "Oh," you reply, mustering as much compassion as you can. *if tokenn "Is that for me?" she asks, gesturing towards your gift. "It is!" you say, revealing ${it}. Her face lights up. "Well, you certainly know how to cheer up a newly-minted widow, ${given_name}." "It is my pleasure," you reply. "What will you do?" you say, gesturing towards the markers of mourning. "It looks like the work of ne'erdowells. A friend of Dick's, Mr. Henshaw, is looking into it. Some local outfit must be responsible, though I can't imagine why." "Gambling debts?" "Possibly, though he rarely played so hard as to lose much." "Do you want to be alone?" "No…no. Please, sit with me. Let's try and make the best of the time we have." *else Her face lights up when she sees you. "My husband is nowhere to be found!" "Most women would not be so excited by such a proposition, Ms. Jones." "I know!" she says with unfeigned delight. *if tokenn "Is that for me?" she asks, gesturing towards your gift. "It is!" you say, extending the ${token} in her direction. She takes it admiringly. "You certainly know how to cheer up a soon-to-be divorcée, ${given_name}. As though she needed any cheering." "It is my pleasure," you reply. "Well, now that you're here…how do you intend to spend this evening?" *if vampire_disclosed "Having one of the most honest conversations available to me in the past several decades." "Let's not make this all about you now, ${mr} ${surname}." "By no means, Ms. Jones. By no means." *else "Sucking every drop of life from it, Ms. Jones." "I like your style, ${mr} ${surname}." *page_break You spend the rest of the evening…nay, the rest of the week…sharing little moments of delight with each other. @{elliot_dead Of course, a funeral has to be arranged, but ${stlouis_valet} is capable of handling a number of those details, freeing up Annie to spend more time with you.|} @{vampire_disclosed She offers to let you feed from her again, which you do—repeatedly.|You feed from her during moments of intimacy, leaving her drained but thrilled by the experience.} *if elliot_dead *set stlouis_valet_loyalty %-5 @{male You have to be careful—people are more than curious about the new man that Annie's been seen consorting with before her husband is even in the ground—but this is your town, and once away from the circus proper, you're able to use that to your advantage.|You pass off your time together as an old friend come to comfort Annie in her moment of need.} *else @{male You have to be careful—people are curious as to Richard Elliot's sudden disappearance and your ongoing fraternization with Annie—but a few well-placed words and the chatter seems to quiet.|You pass yourself off as an old friend, eager to keep Annie's mind off her troubles in the wake of her presumed abandonment.} *page_break Your kisses goodbye are passionate and deep. You promise to write to each other frequently. She is not shy about the fact that she is afraid: with her husband @{elliot_dead dead|missing}, she is going out into the world on her own for the first time. But she is also exhilarated. In the subsequent days, you find yourself dreaming of the dynamic Annie Jones, charming audiences with her tales of triumph and @{((ethnicity = "choctaw") or (ethnicity = "african")) woe|woe from sea to shining sea}. They are some of the sweetest dreams you've had in a long time. *page_break As the scent of Annie's beard-oil begins to fade from your clothes, you begin to contemplate your predicament. These feelings you have @{(love_hope or love_clotho) again|} for a mortal—what can you do? *choice #I want her to join me in immortality. *set stlouis_affair 9 *set discretion %+5 You will need to seek permission from Memeskia if you want to turn her. @{(applethorp_alive = 1) |You must also take into consideration the health of the city; a disaster such as occurred in Memphis could restrict the number of vampires that could live in the district.} A favor must be acquired…or given. You will have to consider how you can be of utility to the Quaestor. #I want to share my love with her as long as she lives. *set stlouis_affair 8 *set compassion %-10 Your correspondence continues apace. You cherish her letters, and find yourself frequently distracted by the question of when her next missive will arive. It is, you suppose, the best it can be. #I want to spare her the suffering of my acquaintance. Your farewell letter is kind if firm: you explain that you had undisclosed complications in your life that preclude any further contact between the two of you. *set stlouis_affair 7 *set compassion %-5 *set discretion %-10 *page_break *return *label plessy *comment 1892-06-7 Resistance takes many forms; some among the black community seek to use the master's tools to dismantle the master's house. A week after Lamentation Day, a young multiracial man by the name of Homer Plessy boards a segregated railcar in New Orleans. He is immediately arrested and detained for violating a state law prohibiting the mixing of races in railcars. His lawyers argue that the state law violates the 13th and 14th Amendments to the Constitution. The judge rejects his appeal and fines him $25. Plessy vows to continue the fight against segregation. *return *label homestead_strike *comment 1892-07-01 *return *label hear_of_white_city *comment December? *set heard_of_white_city true The newspapers buzz with reports from Chicago of the pending exposition. The world will descend upon a temporary city built to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus's arrival in the Americas. *fake_choice #Where people are, vampires go. I can't stand the thought of so many of our kind so close together! *set independence %-5 There are already too many vampires in the court of Memeskia; who knows how many would gather in the White City. #St. Louis should host its own exhibition, the better to put Chicago in its place! *set shepherd_credentials %-5 Maybe someday you'll get your wish. *if (sporting_goods > 1) #We must establish an outpost of ${spalding_sporting_goods} there. *set income +5 ${stlouis_valet} directs the opening of an outlet near the exposition park. It turns out to be an enormous amount of effort for only a mild return, but perhaps it will pay future dividends. *if ((ethnicity = "african") or (ethnicity = "choctaw")) #Only imperialists and tyrants would celebrate that murderer. *set compassion %-5 *set shepherd_credentials %+5 If that man had been smothered in his cradle, perhaps your people would still be @{(ethnicity = "choctaw") free.|home.} Instead, four hundred years of raping, pillaging, and murdering have ensued. And they have erected a whole city to this man? @{(stlouis_enterprise = 1) You make sure that the newspapers of St. Louis deride the affair at every opportunity.|} Unfortunately, your questions have no easy answers. *return *label arbitrage_second_exit *page_break *if arbitrage_outcome = 1 *set wealth +(arbitrage_investment * 1.305) November arrives, and with it, a letter from Terrell Huntington Smith. @{literate |You pass it to ${stlouis_valet} to read aloud.} In it, he thanks you for your investment, and includes a bank draft for your principle plus the promised profit. He makes no mention of the Creede fire. He promises to call upon you again should another opportunity present itself. *return *elseif arbitrage_outcome = 2 November arrives, and with it, a letter from Terrell Huntington Smith. @{literate |You pass it to ${stlouis_valet} to read aloud.} In it, he laments the fact that the purchasing agent at the Assay Office in Denver was more corrupt that he had anticipated. The bribe was more expensive than anticipated, and the delays as a result of those negotiations cut deeply into the profit margins. Though he makes no mention of the Creede fire, you sense that it might have played a factor here as well. Your capital was recovered, but the profit was almost minimal. A bank draft is enclosed. *set wealth +(arbitrage_investment * 1.035) *return *elseif arbitrage_outcome = 3 *set wealth +(arbitrage_investment * 0.715) November arrives, and with it, a letter from Terrell Huntington Smith. @{literate |You pass it to ${stlouis_valet} to read aloud.} In it, he apologizes profusely for the failure of the scheme. He explains that there was a fire in Creede, and how it damaged the entire infrastructure of the town. The mining operation was delayed while the town was rebuilt, and even then, resources were torn between a multitude of purposes. In the end, he was able to return almost three-quarters of your principle—the scheme was, on its face, successful—but so much was lost as a result of the delays and obstacles to production. The envelope includes a bank draft for the indicated funds. *return *else As winter approaches, you have become more and more concerned about the lack of communication from Terrell Huntington Smith. @{(stlouis_enterprise = 2) You make several inquiries after the man with your shadier associates.|You direct ${stlouis_valet} to subscribe to newspapers from Colorado, in the hopes that some nugget of information will illumiante the state of your principle.} Eventually, you learn that Smith is dead. Apparently he caught a bloody flux while in Denver and died. With no estate to speak of, the entirety of your stake is lost. *return *label slattery_interferes *if stl_met_slattery > 7 It does not come without a cost, however. Captain Slattery @{(stl_met_slattery = 9) and his pal Judge Cranch make|makes} sure nothing goes smoothly. Materials are suddenly unavailable or are priced substantively higher than anticipated and the carpenters and brick-layers have a tendency to show up to work late or not at all. *set wealth -15000 *set stl_met_slattery 8 Eventually you weather the difficulties, but it costs you. *return