Arkham Lounge Turn 6: Rattus Robbery Record (Patreon)

[X] [RAT] Write In: Rat Breeding: The Rat Piper would, in fact raid Gotham University's library and retrieve a great many books… unfortunately they got a bit turned around and ended up in the (very limited and new) animal husbandry and selective breeding section. This would turn out to be an unexpected boon for the Piper, as they would slowly begin to breed their rats for dexterity, health and strength, with some for size. This, then, would result in more competent and ambitious heists…. Which worked.

[X] [PROJECTOCORDER] PHONOGRAPH BASED SOUND UNIT: The Projectocorder wasn't yet capable of recording sound on its own. However, Gluck and Mr. Bart would collaborate to create another machine, a special phonograph recorder that could be attached to the Projectocorder to give the movies a soundtrack, albeit one that was tinny and recorded separately.

[X] Klan Safe Deposit Boxes: Well, the paycheck would still be nice, but ultimately it was only (somewhat) about the money. Josiah wanted to send a message: one to every Klan Member of prominence in the city: their valuables and their valuables specifically were not safe.

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

CONTENT WARNING: There's a portion of this in the middle that contains a brief, if frank, discussion about mental healthcare in the early 1900's by characters educated enough to recognize its inadequacy but still constrained by the limited breadth of available knowledge at the time. 

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

BATCOMPUTER IS POWERING UP…

…

…

PLEASE ENTER LOGIN

USERNAME: JAYBIRD

PASSWORD: E-BENNET1813

…

…

WELCOME, JASON. PLEASE ENTER QUERY

SEARCHING FOR "Rattus Gotham"

Hey, Jay, it’s Tim: I’ve set the computer to send you this message next time you use it: I need a favor. Scarecrow has been acting weird and Bruce wants him back in Arkham ASAP before he decides to gas the city or something. I’ve narrowed his current hideouts to a few different locations and need an extra set of hands to hit them all up at the same time. I know you’re busy with whatever the current drama is between you and Bruce and the Joker thing, but I’d really appreciate the assistance. To sweeten the pot, if you help me out Alfred has agreed to bake you an entire cake, and I know you can’t resist the sweet sweet allure of an Alfred cake.

Rattus Gotham, or as their current master calls them, the ‘Greater Gotham Cave Rat’ are a unique to Gotham subspecies of rodent that was discovered by the unfortunate Otis Flanagan at some point prior to him taking up the nom de guerre of ‘Ratcatcher’. Their general obscurity is due to their normal habitat being the deep sewers and caves under Gotham: the awful little creatures normally are averse to the surface.

Master Bruce theorizes that the horrid creatures aren’t entirely natural: the current theory he holds is that they were originally lab rats that escaped containment some time during the sixties.

Coloration is typically either snow white or pitch black, average body length goes anywheres from one to two feet in size with the median being thirteen inches, and distinguishing features include a somewhat prehensile tail of the same length as their body.

Their large size can, in great numbers, make them dangerous, remarkably so going by the amount of people our Ratcatcher turned Rat monarch has had bitten to death by his subjects.

However, what makes them such perfect servants for Mr. Flannigan is the fact that the things are, ultimately, rather wickedly intelligent. Social, highly communicative, and possessed of the same level of cognitive reasoning as most corvids (if not more), the greater gotham cave rat is both remarkably easy to train en masse. They also unfortunately make excellent pets due to the ease by which they can be trained to use a litter box and obey the assorted ettiquete rules animals are expected to follow, like not chewing things that shouldn’t be chewed, which has led Master Damian and Miss Cassandra to adopt a pair as pets.

Lord help us if ‘Giant man-eating sewer rat’ becomes the latest trend in pets: I don’t think Gotham’s cheesemongers would survive the result.

While on his own Ratcatcher would still be a fairly formidable foe, if one in the lower echelons of threat, thanks to Rattus Gotham he has consistently been able to present an elevated threat, to the point most gangs recognize the sewers as his domain, barring those ruled instead by Ratcatchers most consistent rival slash ally, Waylon Jones. And due to the long memory of these rats, even putting the Ratcatcher in Arkham frequently fails to render those cthonic passages safe for traversal, not without Bruce dousing the sewers in repellant to drive them back to the caves.

Thankfully, without the influence of their master, the creatures are somewhat more amenable to diplomacy, and according to the various unhomed forced to inhabit the sewer system, eminently bribeable so long as one is on good terms with Ratcatcher, especially with food.

If you should require advice on how to handle these awful monsters, please contact Master Damian, who is both the most qualified and very insistent on the use of humane methods of containment, for regrettably understandable reasons.

ATTACHED COMMENTARY LOG:

Batman: They aren’t that bad, Alfred.

Alfred: So says the man who has nearly been eaten by them on several occasions

Batman: On Ratcatchers behest: left to their own devices they’re just a normal animal

Alfred: ‘A normal animal’ does not execute an elaborate multi-creature heist to raid my pantry and succeed.

Robin: Simon and Sampson are exceptional beasts, yes, though I agree that we should enact better security on the pantry.

Batman: I don’t think that’s what Alfred meant, Robin.

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

The journal of Mark Jacobs, June 9th, 1901.

Today at work Mr. Bart finally showed off his new sound-unit. The machine is fascinating: it almost resembles a column of sorts, a fat round pillar that rises to my neck, with two great horns attached to it in the middle, and a record-spinner at the top.

The film they were showing was a recording of one of the Professors old acts, some bird tricks he used to do before he started the Lounge, complete with narration on how to replicate the act.

It was uncanny, hearing the professor's voice like that, all tinny and distorted: Mr. Bart called it canned sound, and I think that description is the most accurate way to describe what I heard.

The sound apparently has to be recorded separately: Mr Bart apparently intends to use it for adding narration for now, at least until he’s expanded his studio more to be more adventurous. When we talked afterwards he mentioned having trouble with music, both finding one who would be willing to play for the Lounge as well as the quality of the recorded sound.

Davis has said in the past that the machine is apparently a prototype, which I’ve come to learn is a sort of proof of concept in invention. He has apparently been getting along very fine with Miss Gluck: he frequently finds himself called as a spare hand by the inventress lately.

I am considering enquiring if he wishes to pursue an education in the field of invention: he clearly is taken with the subject of engineering, and it would be trivial to use the scholarship to earn him a place at Gotham University.

Lastly dear journal, I have received a letter back from Viola, written on what appears to be a playing card, an Ace of diamonds. It is contained heiren:

Dear Mark

It’s good to hear from you. Doing well: josiah has many friends mng guards, treatment is as nice as can be expected. Have not received word fr. him, bt have been sent bg money for food/protection. attmptng 2 hr lwyr 2 appl. Srryfrbrfness, lmtdspce.

♥

VIOLET

As can be seen, she seems to be doing as well can be expected for a woman stuck in that ungodly abomination of an institution. I must admit, I am surprised by the revelation that Josiah decided to take care of Violet in prison, though I am sincerely unsurprised at the fact he hasn’t sent her any letters.

The man frustrates me: he is like a walking agent of chaos. Every time I begin to lean on the belief that he might be a villain, he does something surprisingly noble. And then, when I begin to suspect that he might underneath it all be a good man, he does something awful. For now, however, I am firmly of the belief that he is (at least at present) acting as a thorough negative to the community. Poor Mr. Harris seems to be getting worse and worse every passing day: the other day I went to check on him, and the man has apparently taken up rat breeding.

He isn’t well, I fear, and yet I don’t know how to help the man: there are no humane institutions I can call upon to help the man without potentially condemning him to cruel treatment, and yet night by night it has become clear that his drinking has begun to destroy his mind. I have tried to convince him to stop, but he tells me that without something strong to soothe his nerves, his mind begins to conjure the most terrible fears such that he sometimes has nightmares when awake.

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

The banks foyer was austere, cavernous. Lit dimly by the flickering light of several wall fixtures, outside the sky was dark, an electric tingle in the air and a rumbling noise in the distance. It wasn’t raining yet, but it would in a few hours, no doubt, likely sooner.

Hugh Latchley was currently seated at one of the wall facing benches, watching the slow trickle of clients came in and out. Business was slow, as it typically was for the bank on tuesdays: there were only thirteen people in the bank. The bank guard scratched his chin as he watched the proceedings, feeling a profound sense of ennui, a word the man didn’t know even if it was his strongest emotion.

Running his tongue over his teeth under his pursed lips, Hugh thought it was a day much like any other. One like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that day before that: they had begun to blend together that the man no longer remembered how long he had actually been working this job. It could have been forever, perhap: it felt like forever, and likely the 57 year old would work there forever, at least until his body gave out.

The doors of the bank were pushed open, and a strange man walked inside, breaking Hugh from his funk. A man dressed in a white suit, one so bright and spotless it seemed to almost glow, surrounded by a strange haze. On their face, they wore a mask, one with two big glass eye-pieces and a strange sort of tube emerging from it and going beneath the bright red cape the figure wore: on the top of their head they wore a magicians cap.

“Greetings, Bowery Citizens,” The man boomed, his voice seemingly coming from several places at once, an odd tinny sound underneath it somehow. “My name is the Opaque Shadow. I would advise everyone to make no sudden moves.”

Hugh blinked, standing up and grabbing his nightclub from his belt as he watched the man pull out what looked like some sort of strange looking gun, its barrel wide, can shaped almost.

The rest of the patrons had turned to face him, a murmur of alarm going up as they saw the weapon. Hugh saw one of the tellers duck below the counter, likely to grab the shotgun kept there, only for the Opaque Shadow to point and fire, launching SOMETHING that impacted and punched through the glass. “Ah ah ah, naughty naughty!” It looked like the can gun had fired an actual can, one that was now bouncing around, a spray of SOMETHING coming from it and dousing the tellers, who could immediately fall to the ground and begin violently twitching, several of them letting out a low, agonized moan.

“Hmm. Well, they’ll probably be fine,” The man said in a refined voice, before turning to point their weapon at the approaching security guard, causing Hugh to freeze in his tracks, giving a dry gulp. “You however won’t be: my little toy here punched through the glass like it was nothing: imagine what it will do to you.”

Hugh pursed his lips, and his eyes darted around, trying to see if there was any signs of the other guards. “I wouldn’t go expecting help: they’re already a bit…indisposed,” The thief chuckled. “Allow me to be clear: I’m not so sloppy as to reveal myself BEFORE I’ve accomplished my objective.”

Wait, did that mean…

“Yes, the bank is already robbed: thirty seven minutes ago, actually,” The costumed criminal admitted, tilting their head. “I just didn’t feel it RIGHT to disappear into the night without making a statement. Now, run along, join the herd little sheep, because the shepherd has things to whisper to you.” The man said, gesturing, his meaning clear.

With great reluctance, Hugh walked over to join the rest of the clients, who were now whispering in alarm and fright. “Mmm, yes, as I was saying…” The stranger said, giving a cough. “My wonderful audience, my name is the Opaque Shadow, criminal nonpareil: as many of you wonderful people have more important matters to attend to, I’ll keep this brief. Most of you will be happy to know you have lost absolutely nothing: for the general majority of you, I have taken no money. I have taken no valuables. You are, for better or worse, exactly as rich as you were before.”

The man leaned forward, and for a moment a chill went up Hugh’s spine. “For those of you who I have taken from, however,” They continued, the tinniness disappearing, the mans voice coming across as clear, low, and deadly. “I am not going to stop. Gotham is no longer your city.”

The man turned, and began to walk. Taking his chance, Hugh attempted to rush them, preparing to tackle the man…only to stumble and slip, the Shadow having turned and done SOMETHING with their weapon to make it spray the security guard. Landing on the ground, he had only moments before his vision began to slip and slide, strange colors filtering in. “Bad move, Hugh. Hope you enjoy wherever that blend sends you.”

His nerves coming alight, he was filled with exquisite, horrific agony, his jaw slamming shut as his muscles tensed. Before him, he saw the man who had sprayed him, and as his neurons began to activate all across his brain and his body began to seize, he saw the man for what he was.

He had thought the person a human, an oddity in a costume like those that occasionally appeared in the papers, a human thief out to make some money by taking it for others. Now, he experienced revelation, seeing the truth: he wasn’t staring at a man, but something else, something higher and lower, stranger and more infinite than he could possibly imagine.

As his consciousness finally began to white out from the poison seeping into him, Hugh Latchley saw spirit behind the avatar for what it was: a walking nightmare in white.

!!!GOTHAM!!!

KLAN TREASURES STOLEN BY MYSTERY MAN, GARRET HAS NO LEAD

Once again, police chief Malcom Garret proves unable to maintain order in his district! This wednesday afternoon, a mysterious assailant robbed Bowery Park Bank. This unknown figure seems to have targeted the safe deposit boxes belonging to individuals and affiliates associated with the Klan of the Fiery Cross. According to confidential informants, the guards of the bank were systematically ambushed and doused with an unknown, disabling chemical weapon before being stuffed in the banks restroom.

Shortly after this took place, eyewitnesses report a strange man in a white suit and rubber mask taking credit for the action, using what appeared to be a strange chemical gun to disable the tellers and last remaining security guard. Calling himself the Opaque Shadow, this masked criminal sprayed his victims with an as of yet unidentified substance! Victims report feelings of paranoia, mania, and seizures: they are currently recovering in Gotham General, and have declined to comment on their condition.

Chief Garret has declined comment, claiming that despite the perpetrator making a transparent show of himself that limited evidence was left behind…

“You told me the substance was harmless,” Josiah hissed, glancing at Zelda over the paper, occasionally tossing terrified looks to the bar they were in. Zelda meanwhile sipped at a tall bottle of Stout nonchalantly, perfectly relaxed.

“It is mostly harmless. Assuming they had no prior medical conditions and were consuming no other chemicals, the effects should wear off eventually,” She responded, shrugging, giving a wry grin. “You really must learn to relax, Josiah: do you think you were sloppy enough that they already know you’re the culprit? Besides, tonight is a night of celebration!”

Josiah gave a grunt. No, but he had not gotten to where he was in life without being EXCEEDINGLY careful when it came to his more illicit activities. Still, perhaps he had best heed his current drinking and business partners suggestion.

“Ah, Josiah, Miss Crane!” Came a voice, and soon the table they sat at was approached by the groups third, an extremely tired Amadeus, his eyes dark and sunken, face covered in a bedraggled sort of stubble. “Appologies for my tardiness, Mother’s insomnia required an administration of laudenam before I could leave,” He appologized.

“How is Auntie?” Josiah enquired, hiding his frown at Amadeus’s appearance as the man sat down, giving a sigh. “I went ahead and ordered drinks for us, by the way: stouts to start with,” Josiah said, gesturing to the remaining bottle between them, which Amadeus picked up and began chugging.

“Not…not well,” Amadeus admitted, answering Josiah’s question. “The Night Terrors…the night terrors are getting worse. Every night for the past month she has required a sedative to have a restful sleep.” He took another swig. “Day is little better: her fugues make her angry, confused. Yesterday she threw a shoe at me because she thought I was my father.”

Zelda pursed her lips, batting her eyes. “Why you poor thing: I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now,” She said in a tone that was far kinder than anything else Josiah had heard her say before, and two shades too insincere for Josiah’s tastes, causing his eyes to narrow as Amadeus flushed, giving a cough, flustered by the attentions.

“Yes, well, I do my best,” Amadeus said, awkwardly. “Frankly, this is the first time I’ve been able to leave the house for something other than work or taking care of her in months.”

“So dutiful,” Zelda tutted, placing her hand on the psychiatrist in trainings shoulder sympathetically. “Taking care of your poor mother. You are a VERY good son, Mr. Amadeus: most would have sent her to New Bedlam.”

Was…was she trying to flirt with Amadeus?

Josiah’s eye twitched and he took a deep drink of Stouts. It was going to be a long night. Simultaneously, Amadeus gave a shudder. “I couldn’t bear to subject her to that place: my cousin has told you I work there as an orderly, yes?”

“He mentioned something to the effect,” Zelda said, lips pursing a bit, expression catlike and inscrutable. “I must admit, I’m not fond of the place,” She admitted, a look of hidden loathing and disdain passing over her face for a brief moment.

“An entirely correct opinion: the place is little better than the hell-houses of the old century,” Amadeus agreed, taking another sip of beer, only to find it empty. “Blast, I could use another one of these,” He commented, causing Josiah to raise his hand, flagging down a waiter to bring them more.

The man on serving duty soon appeared, carrying another round of drinks. “Here you go, it’s on the house, Josiah, courtesy of Mr. Capers,” The man said, before retreating.

“Who’s-”

“A friend of sorts of mine in the business of serving alcohol,” Josiah said briefly, coughing. “He owed me a favor,” Josiah admitted.

“Mmm,” Amadeus said, nodding, choosing to merely accept the notion. Josiah had been very careful to make sure he only saw a portion of his life, and the psychiatrist respected his cousin enough to heed those obvious boundaries. “At any rate, New Bedlam is genuinely horrid,” He proclaimed, returning to the earlier topic, taking up his bottle and continuing to down it. “They don’t care about treating patients: what attempts they make are almost indistinguishable from torture."

“Careful, we have three other stops to make, not including the Lounge,” Josiah warned, making both Zelda and Amadeus chuckle.

“Josiah, some days you make me worry you’re merely a boozehound thats learned to dress it up respectably,” Amadeus teased briefly.

“I make no statements of agreement or denial,” Josiah responded noncommittally, still sipping on his own Stout, causing the other two to laugh.

“You seem to have strong opinions about the place for one of its employees,” Zelda noted, causing Amadeus to nod in agreement glumly.

“I confess, if I had the choice I wouldn’t,” He admitted. “There are simply no other institutions in Gotham I can work at instead. Gotham is a wasteland when it comes to serious, modern mental wellness techniques.” He slumped. “Besides, I find myself in disagreement with much of the psychiatric hegemon to begin with: as much as I might seem a respectable student, Miss Crane, you gaze upon an academic pariah,” He groused.

Zelda raised an eyebrow.

“Amadeus believes that the violently insane can be rehabilitated with the milk of human kindness,” Josiah explained, rolling his eyes, causing Amadeus to glare at his cousin.

“Yes, I believe that using modern psychoanalysis combined with patience, empathy, and the latest medicines, it should be possible to help cure madness, or at least ameliorate it enough to help reintroduce the insane back into society safely,” Amadeus admitted. “There are genuine scientific reasons to think it might work- I’ve been writing to a fellow psychologist in Austria, he has some interesting theories on the mind that I believe have the potential to revolutionize psychology for the better.”

“A noble, if misguided, goal,” Josiah said, raising a glass. “A small toast to my cousins glorious ambitions: here’s hoping he proves me entirely, absolutely wrong and finds great success in this venture.”

Amadeus wrinkled his nose. “Your support is appreciated.”

“Well, I for one believe in you,” Zelda said, sympathetically. “You know, I’m something of a psychologist myself…”

Congratulations, you just gave Scarecrows great great grandmother a huge cash infusion, field data on the effects of some of her chemical weapons, and introduced her to the guy that will eventually found Arkham Asylum.

This can’t end well, obviously, especially since our dear manager has made enemies with none other than the Klan of the Fiery Cross, some of the most murderously unpleasant people in America at this point in time. Rest assured, there will be consequences for that, though those are unfortunately beyond your means to control at this point. Which brings us to our hotspot: Josiah has a pretty solid set of cash right now because of your decision: problem is, it’s hot as heck, meaning Josiah needs to divest himself, quick. It’s time to spend some real dough.

(Zelda is using hers to purchase a stretch of the Arsenal to serve as her own laboratory. It’s gonna take a year to complete, at which point she’s going to start making some very large batches of very exotic chemicals)

The action code is, as always, [HOT].

[ ] Greased Palms: Josiah was good at figuring people out. With the fresh cash infusion, he would use this talent to start making friends in the Mayors office and in various branches of city government. Was it corrupt? Sure. But it meant he was successfully able to get Violet quietly freed from prison via arranging for the guards to be rather EXCEPTIONALLY unobservant. Josiah gains a large amount of city officials and miscellanious public servants under his payroll.

[ ] Diet Carnegie: Josiah would spend some of his money on reputation: he was tired of not being seen as anything less than the most respectable of persons. That was going to change: he was going to perform a BIG charitable act. And in the process, if he helped some people, more the better!

-[ ] Alright, you get to pick one big, showy act of charity. This can be opening an orphanage, this could be a very public act of contributing to a social cause of some stripe, etc. Note that if you want to lean into Josiah as a criminal you could use this to play dirty carnegie instead of diet carnegie by choosing something to specifically improve his underworld reputation.

[ ] A Venture Darkly: The thrill of crime was, ultimately, addictive. Josiah needed more: so much more. But to do that, he needed to expand operations. He used his money to finance his Opaque Shadow operations, keeping it entirely separate from his regular budget.

-[ ] You get to pick out one thing Josiah uses his money to purchase that he can use for work as Opaque Shadow, whether henchmen to serve as muscle, commissioning Gluck for a gadget, renovating the St. Majeste to add a compartment or modification meant for illicit purposes.

And now for the Power of the Lounge vote. You haven’t unlocked any new frame cards, but you’re pretty close to unlocking one for making enemies, considering you just pissed off the entire Gotham Klan. Despite that, however, our vote revolves around something else: the Projectocorder. It is, currently, still very much a prototype: you need a lot more work before its ready for general sale, as Edison found out.

However, despite this it’s still one of the most advanced pieces of technology in the Lounge and on the planet thanks to having a once in a lifetime super genius work on it. That sort of thing attracts attention, gets in the news. And so this turn we’re using that for the axis upon which the skein of fate is woven, so to speak.

You can, of course, opt instead to play a frame card, and to be honest it wouldn’t be a bad time for Financier of the Future: like I said, Edison is currently trying to chase your tail on Projectocorders, and he’s still in the lead when it comes to actually selling his own projecting kinetoscopes and movies. If you somehow manage to beat him, and get Mr. Bart, our Dear Manager, and the Lounge all etched into the history of cinema, you WILL earn a new Frame Card. Of course, you don’t need to use financier of the future to accomplish this: it’d make it easier, of course, but you can also try to handle it via normal actions and leveraging hotspots and the skein of fate results.

Here are your frame cards, for reference:

Hand of Madness: You can whisper into the minds of your patrons susceptible to your influence, accelerating and manipulating their madness to achieve your desired fate. Enhanced potency while drink selection is toxic. Allows for manipulation of madness. 5 Turn Cooldown. 5 TURNS UNTIL CAN BE USED.

Financier of the Future: The Manager had embarked on a venture that had them acting as a major financier for one or more people and projects. You could use your hold over the manager and their wallet to help grease development along. Enhanced potency when revenue is GREEN. Additional potency at BLACK increasing every rank after that. Can spend an additional Manager AP upon a major venture that you are already backing. No Cooldown, but costs LARGE amount of revenue.

Now, onto the [Power of the Lounge]

[ ] A Person of Some Importance: The Projectocorder would attract to the Lounge another individual of note: a historical figure drawn in by stories of a wonderful new technology that allowed for films to stretch on and on and on…. Select a historical figure to make a visit to the Lounge. Depending on who they are they may become a Regular.

[ ] A Reel Divisive Prophecy: Once more, Josiah would find his creative works mistaken as a prophecy, though this time, instead of uniting, the warning he accidentally created would inspire division, being interpreted in two different ways by the Ring. Select a figure or event from DC canon: this figure/event will be accidentally predicted and a source of internal strife for the Ring.

[ ] Propaganda, Accidentally: Mr. Bart would accidentally produce in an attempt to create a series of documentaries that in hindsight would be identified by many as highly persuasive propaganda films that would go on to help popularize a certain idea in Gotham.Select an ideology or idea: it becomes more popular/accepted by the patrons of the Lounge and by extension Gotham as a whole.

And now we get to the management portion of this quest. Your funds have improved considerably thanks to the gambling hall and bank heist: you’ve made a pretty enough penny that you are now at BLACK, the first good color on our little scale. Keep saving up and you might even get to the sweet sweet level of Green, which is when you really get to start spending the moolah.

Sure, it might have costed you a fair bit of moral fiber, but that’s the price of making quick money, its either risky or exploitative. Now, before we start on the act, lets get the list of assets out again. After this turn I’ll be adding them to the front page, for the record, that way we can stop clogging this up with them.

Josiah Arkham: The owner circa Aug. 1900 - . A stage magician trained in burglary among other arts. Has sold his soul to Abigail Roth, who he encountered in a dingy bar while drunk, in exchange for his Bar having an assured stream of clientele, though not necessarily enough to make ends meet. Obsessed to an unhealthy degree with various indigenous artefacts.

Violet Hall: A singer Josiah had located while looking for entertainers: they had agreed to work using their voice, their pay a few dollars every day they worked. Politically an anarchist, personally when it comes to her job as a performer Hall is also highly ambitious and driven when given the reigns.

Davis Jacobs: Cousin to the cook, and the house Handiman. A skilled carpenter and laborer who allowed for more ambitious projects and kept the Lounge maintained.

Crane Brews: A collection of beverages that incorporated various narcotics and minor neurotoxins to deliver an alternate intoxication to beer, one that bypassed most peoples alcohol tolerance. Thanks to recent investments, cheaper than before.

Bowman Moonshine: Cheap, low quality, and powerful. Sourced from Bowman Island, this drink caused occasional sickness, cramps, and other problems, but it made up for these issues by being ungodly affordable.

Assorted Goth-County Farms: Josiah had secured deals with numerous integrated and black communities in Gotham County and beyond to supply the Lounge with food, typically cheap staples such as rice, corn, chicken, and pork as dictated by the season.

Dry Ice: Good for special effects, good for keeping things cold.

Vogel and Brown: The house comedians. Former performers at Hermanns, they typically worked the day matinee with Violet or did evening show when Josiah was busy.

The Kitchen: A kitchen ran by Mark Jacobs with cheap foods of various types such as eggs, bacon, toast that the waiter brought to customers. It sported a cold room that was mostly empty these days.

St. Majeste: An old riversteamer where the Arkham Lounge was located, it was a barely floating wreck that required significant repairs. Mostly functional, it had the Lounge, a kitchen and pantry kept cold by dry ice, and a library for its owner to use, and had been given a modern electrical system that it couldn't yet fully power.

Arkham Projectocorder Prototype: Large, and somewhat bulky and expensive to produce, this device allowed for both the filming and projecting of short reels of unusual quality and length, and was wheeled to allow for moving shots. Further, it came with a phonograph based system that could be used to provide separately recorded sound.

Gentlemans Entertainment Parlor: A gambling slash entertainment hall that Josiah uses to mill money from patrons and, occasionally, hold cinema exhibitions.

And now, your list of acts:

Taming of the Fouls: An act that involves a large number of doves and pigeons. Currently, most were kept in a special coup when not acting. They had been trained to be surprisingly well coordinated, and more important, unlikely to crap in a customers food.

Stories of Smoke and Mirrors: A sadly slightly undercooked act consisting of tales spun by Professor Arkham in the form of puppetshows with himself as the narrator and villain: the smoke and props gave it an interesting atmosphere, but it was still subpar for various technical reasons.

Crystal Ball Act: It didn't have an official name, but it was an act where Josiah would use a crystal ball, ventriloquism, and cold reading as well as a healthy dose of spying to create "predictions" for his audience.

The Lady of Moon and Stars: An operatic and emotion inducing series of ballads sung by Violet dressed as the titular lady of moon and stars. It was technically unimpressive but in terms of performance had generally still received positive reviews.

Amohalko!: A storytelling act that focused on presenting the mundane state of Oklahoma as if it were a fantastical foreign land ruled by a strange and sometimes bewildering people. Not particularly inspired but it wasn’t a complete dud.

Now, onto the show. This turn we’re going to do something different: instead of an Act, you’re going to instead suggest an idea for a Reel: that’s right, you have to come up with an idea for a movie that you can show in the lounge. Action code is [Reel], and remember what assets you have available here.

[ ] [Reel] Insert film idea here

Now, onto the actions. Firstly, I have some bad news: some of you probably want to get rid of the gambling hall. However, that isn’t happening, not until something in-story occurs to give Josiah pause, much like his Museum. Until then, you are unfortunately going to have to live with it (or find a way to counter its social influence somehow).

With that in mind your first manager AP is, as standard, for management. Since the Lounge is doing well, I want you to branch out a bit here and focus on a different venture of some stripe, whether starting a new business, investing in something experimental or a particular industry, helping out a friend with one of their goals. [VENTURE] is the name of the game.

Next, you have the War on Garret: whether as the Opaque Shadow or as Josiah, our dear manager is still aiming to make Garret’s life hell. The smear campaign is ongoing, and will passively occur, though if you want you can amp up the pressure, or find a new way to target him. Keep in mind he’s still currently investigating your actions, however. Action code is [WAR].

Then we have the social! Josiah is feeling generous this season, so he gets to do something nice for someone else. We just checked in on Amadeus: if you want, you can follow up on him, start helping him with his Mother or else pay for his research. Alternatively, you could do Zelda another favor and deepen your partnership.

There is, of course, also Roth, who is currently mostly still satisfied, but hey, a little extra schmoozing probably wouldn’t hurt. Action code is [FAVOR].

And lastly because I think it would be kind of lame if it got forgotten and it would be stale if every turn was COPS COPS COPS COPS, Josiah is going to do something Regrettable™ regarding his Museum: you have to take an action relating to its expansion somehow, and it needs to be the kind I can use to whack him with a rake. Now, to be clear, you get to pick the size of the rake here: this isn’t me the GM punishing you the players, and I’ll accept something as mild as ‘Josiah winds up falling for an obvious scam and spends some money on tacky garbage’ (though I’d prefer you come up with a more original idea). Action code [REGRET].

Now we have the employee AP. You don’t have anything super pressing going on, so you get to pick whether you want Davis to do some handiwork or if you want to continue to develop your burgeoning film empire. Action code is [EMPLOYEE].