Turn 4: Consequences and Crises (Patreon)

[X] [BOOKS] Private Means Private: Josiah would allow Abigail, Amadeus, and no one else. His library would be his alone, with permission granted only to the most select few he had deemed acceptable to intrude on his space. It would be his sanctum, his place of power, the beating brains of his operations.

[X] [PATENT] Der Gluckenmotor: In the end, Frau Gluck had run out of budget, but she had successfully produced schematics for a replacement engine for the ship, one that would run off kerosene and distilled oil. In theory, it should allow not only for the Lounge to be electrified, but it would also be a significant improvement to the ships engine in general, though it would be pulling double duty between moving the boat and powering lights.

[X] [CHOICE] Integrity: Josiah had never really adhered to a formal segregation policy, but it wasn't until his new employees wanted to spend their hard earned simoleons at the bar they worked that the man decided to officially desegregate, realizing the african american population of the city a ripe audience to exploit and, somewhat more admirably, believing that any who judged a man for something other than the color of their money was a fool. Immediate difficulty increase until desegregation. History will remember Josiah somewhat better.

[X] [WEAPONS] "Safety" Gloves: good for protecting the hands from cuts, burns, electric discharge, chemical spills while being able to stench the bleeding if someone decides to stab you in the hand. it inner groves on the fingers and palm help maintain a grip onto objects and help with vertical climbing; it also makes for surprisingly good knuckle dusters by being durable to increase the damage of hitting others while softening the force applied to the wearer.

[X] [WEAPONS] A hand-held version of a signal lamp that emits light because of chemicals inside it reacting with each other. It is sturdy enough to be used as a mace, has a spike to plant it into the ground, to use it as a crowbar, or to pierce an enemy's skull, and if the situation is desperate, one can pull a special trigger on this lamp and release a spray of glowing chemicals that cause severe burns.

[X] [WEAPONS] A large metal frame attached to the forearm contains a power tool driven by explosive charges that when used forces the piston down the guide rails. Exchangeable heads allow the pistons to break rocks, or with the help of clamps rivet bolts into solid surfaces.

((((()))))

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Wonderful! Loading Gotham Arsenal and the Rise of Gotham Mechanized Martial Arts by M. Jerhoven, PhD

Gotham’s relationship with violence has a long and storied history, from the very first day two prussian colonists set foot on its soil in 1692 only to wind up shooting each other to death in a duel that very evening[1]. However, it wasn’t until the creation of the Gotham Arsenal that the seeds would be planted for what would later be called Gotham Mechanized Martial Arts, or Gomma, for short.

Gomma is characterized by its usage of three different tools: the first are safety gloves, specialized products produced by the arsenal to protect their hands and fingers, being highly durable, flame resistant, heat retardant, water-proof, and reinforced to reduce crush damage, as well as having special grooved gripped for keeping hold of items[2]. The second is the Gotham Lantern, a hammer shaped implement created using extremely luminescent, if highly caustic, chemicals. It’s purpose being to both provide light in areas where conventional lanterns are likely to be hazardous, such as mines, tunnels and buildings filled with explosive light, and buildings containing highly flammable materials. It features a trigger designed to help dispose of the chemicals within easy once they’ve lost their brightness in order to replace them[3]. The third tool used as an essential part of Gomma is Pistons Fist, named for it’s inventor, Piston Hitchcock, invented in 1911. Consisting of an arm-mounted frame designed to use a special gunpowder mechanism to allow workers to fire pistons down a rail, it is traditionally used in mining, demolition, and by law enforcement such as SWAT[4].

These items, as well as several of the other inventions produced by the Arsenal, would help to contribute to a small industrial renaissance, one felt most keenly by the businesses that had invested in the creation of the region, with several such as Chalmer Chill using these technologies to expand their own mining operations [5]. However, on October 24, 1923, the events that would see these tools turned to weapons would begin when the Pinkertons would attempt to stop an illegal strike by the Chill Automotive Factory by the Davy’s Boys, a union attempting to secure higher privileges for its members at the cost of the Factories profitability. Davy’s Boys would respond with violence, killing seven innocent Pinkerton Agents and injuring twenty more. In response, Chill would successfully persuade the state governor to respond with the state guard, resulting in the Chill Factory Incident (referred to inaccurately as the Chill Massacre, as a massacre by definition involves the killing of defenseless civilians: while there were women and children killed, they were both a small minority compared to the heavily armed and violent union members), ending with Davy Wright, the leader of the organization, being convicted and executed for insurrection[6]

In the aftermath, most of the surviving members of Davy’s Boys would wind up joining various criminal gangs, trading their experience with using the tools they had used to fight the Pinkertons for protection against justice. Over time and numerous gang wars, this style of fighting would eventually form early Gomma, though its status as a valid martial art wouldn’t be achieved until World War Two, where its practitioners would find themselves drafted to the trenches, resulting in them being forced to hone it in conditions far more hazardous than those of Gotham. Not only would they begin adopting combat armor as standard in order to survive arms-fire long enough to get close enough to use their other weapons, Gomma practitioners versed in engineering, chemistry, or other fields would begin experimenting with modifications to their gear to improve efficiency, improving the range of the Signal Lanterns ability to shoot caustic compounds, creating a short to medium range chemical shotgun, as well as the ability to create extremely harsh strobe effects to blind and disorient enemies, among other modifications such as improved causticity or the production of toxic fumes to make it double as a gas weapon, while the Piston Fist would find itself modified with improved hydraulics, lighter alloys to reduce carry weight, and heavy armoring to allow the tool to be used as a makeshift shield, providing another layer of protection against small arms fire[7]. NOTE: The Safety Gloves were not especially modified in this time, as their primary purpose was to help their user maintain their grip on weapons, protect their hands from damage from various sources, and climb and mount surfaces. While themselves useful for pugilism, as actual weapons they were largely used only in reserve or when the practitioner was ambushed without one of their primary weapons. In the tight, enclosed spaces of the trenches, these modifications would make Gomma fighters extremely terrifying, if not for their individual prowess, then for their ability to demolish with ease german fortifications such as bunkers if they were allowed to close the distance. As the war progressed, these soldiers would begin teaching more of their trenchmates the art, causing its spread and adoption outside it’s city and nation of origin, especially in France, whose army still offers free Gomma courses to members…

!!!!GOTHAM!!!!

From the Journal of Frau Gluck, February 22nd

Dear Journal, it has been some time since we talked.

That man, Josiah, he has commissioned me to design him a new engine and help re-wire the boat to run off it, and now I have, after around two months of work. It took much of my time and energy, but I have successfully created the schematics for a machine I have named the Gluckenmotor.

It is a petroleum fueled machine, or at least will be: it can essentially run off any sort of oil based product, such as kerosene and even crude oil. In theory, one could even run it off of whale blubber oil, though the power it would generate would only be somewhat more than what the current engine puts out. Assuming the prototype functions as intended then it will also double as one of the best engines on the market, heads above most others such as those dumkopfts at Anchor Line.

It’s also designed to function best with paddle-wheels instead of propellers, by the request of Josiah. I’m still not sure why he made such a choice, but the man is undeniably eccentric for aesthetics. This will lower its overall efficiency once made, but hopefully only a little.

These modifications mean the current engine is also working as a power source, but the machine is both meager and obsolete by twenty years. It can barely power the lights in the lounge, and even then the lounge still uses the old kerosene lamps to keep the stage lit and the lights never stay on while the wheels are being powered. Some utility, yes, but not as much as the Gluckenmotor. Hopefully the Lounge stays open long enough for it to be completed: it would be a shame if such a wonderful creation of mine was slain before it could make its way from blueprint to reality. Unfortunately, that might not occur.

One of Josiah’s eccentricities, I have come to learn, is a strange sort of obstinance mixed with a peculiar code of honor. When two of his newest employees attempted to spend their off hours at the bar, he permitted this, despite the complaints that came from Josiah serving Herr Jacobs people.

(The word I had been using for them is, apparently, horrifically offensive. I shall endeavor to do better out of respect for Herr Jacobs, as his work ethic, intellect, and technical skill have both proven nothing short of impressive.)

At any rate, while Josiah claims that his policy is based entirely on raw, blind greed (“the color of a mans dollar is infinitely more a measure of his worth and character than the color of his skin”, he says), I suspect that as a performer, the idea of a notional peer of his being excluded from enjoying the amenities of the place whose existence relies on him is…What is the word…worse than distaste, but not quite on the level of a moral evil.

(ANTITHETICAL)

This has brought him trouble. The first such incident was when his act would be boo’d: a small but loud part of the Lounge attempting to protest the fact that blacks were seated with them: they were only silenced when that man Chill sent one of his bodyguards to talk to those making a fuss. He apparently didn’t enjoy having his entertainment disrupted for such petty reasons. For once, I don’t disagree with the arschloch.

This caused Josiah to respond that he welcomes any and all customers in his papers: I don’t know what blackmail he keeps with them that most still publish his ads, but this has caused him to lose many of his suppliers. Much of the food vendors, which is a shame: the eggs and bacon Herr Jacobs cousin makes are the closest thing to the food of the gods I’ve had in this country. The drinks have also been reduced in number, though the Crane woman is apparently going to continue supplying her chemishbrauen. One of his suppliers, the Stout man, came to threaten Josiah during the day, while he was enjoying his lounge, warning him that no credible brewery would be willing to sell their stock to an integrated bar: he was at first polite, but when Josiah did not capitulate Stout began to threaten him subtly: I am not sure if Josiah didn’t notice it, didn’t care, or was merely being obtuse out of spite, but he invited Stout to enjoy a free Witches Brew, telling the man that his “mediocre if passable” brewery was an incredibly negligible part of what brought customers to the Lounge and that the collective boycott by the brewers of Gotham would be “regrettable, but irrelevant”.

I have never seen a mans face grow that red as Stouts. It was at that point he openly threatened Josiah, informing the fellow that there would be consequences for Josiah’s insolence and that there were certain social groups who would likely see to it the man got what was coming to him.

(His wording was much more crude: I have omitted it for taste.)

Josiah responded by quietly informing him that he was no longer welcome at his bar, and that he would not be changing policy. He then said something about a grave and a body that I don’t understand, but I think may have been a veiled warning: whatever it was, it caused Herr Stouts eyes to widen. With fear, I think: I suspect that Josiah used whatever uncanny means of social deduction he uses in his acts to make some sort of tailored threat. The man Stout gave a lot of bluster about consequences, but he quickly left, in a hurry.

The third such incident was the other day, when Josiah appeared in the Lounge sporting many bruises and injuries. He claimed he had merely taken an unfortunate tumble down the stairs, but it is clear that he was attacked and beaten viciously: I can only hope the man gave as good as he received.

These incidents the others are not aware of, I believe: Oswald is a kind man, but he is also a naive dumkopft, Scotty has been more pre-occupied with mourning the end of free food, and Marianne has scarcely noticed anythings wrong to begin with with how much she’s been enjoying the mysteries we’ve been investigating, such as the reports of a strange man-bat creature that turned out to be some sort of masked lunatic or the stories of a murderous clown armed with poisonous laughing gas that turned out to be a hoax to help steal east-end real estate. Frankly, were I not working so closely with Josiah and upon his boat, I would likely not know either: likely there have been things I haven’t seen, judging by how tight the mans smile has been as of late. Hopefully he weathers this: as distasteful and crass and outright strange as he may be, he is possessed of a certain crude (if greed and ego marred) nobility.

!!!GOTHAM!!!

Josiah slumped his way across the boat, walking to the door of his study, opening and entering within, shutting and locking the door behind him as he turned. The room was modest, by Josiah’s standards: no bigger than the small library that Jacobs liked to spend his free time at, illuminated by the soft glow of electric hanging lamps hung up in the corner, between the wall shelves which themselves were preceded each by one standing shelf a piece.

Continuing his tired trudge forward, the man came to his desk, situated with its back facing the far wall and its surface covered in various books. Pulling his chair out, the man gave an unelegant plop into his seat, letting out a breath.

“Hello, Mr. Arkham. Pleasant evening?”

“JUMPING JEHOSHAPHAT!” Josiah yelped, starting as he turned to spot in one of the ill lit corners of his room a familiar shape. Scowling, he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a box of matches to help light the kerosene lamp he kept for reading, allowing him to more clearly view the other figure. “Miss Roth,” He sighed, relaxing a bit. “Yes, the evening has been going swimmingly.” He lied. “The house is packed.”

That statement was a lie. It was a complete disaster: drink and meal sales were down by nearly 70%, and while Josiah had faintly hoped his display of public virtue would be rewarded with a flush of black customers, in truth it had only resulted in a trickle compared to the deluge of those who had once eagerly feasted at his tables.

It wasn’t just the loss of most of the menu: the lack of any cheap options on the drink list meant that the number of people who could even afford to drink had shrunken. Cranes Brews were still bringing people in, as was the entertainment, but it was barely enough to sustain the Lounges operations. God, he might need to let one of the Jacobs go-

No, no, he could sell off portions of his collection if it came to that. It would be unpleasant, but he would probably be able to survive until the spring that way, and try to find new suppliers and rebuild his customers.

“So, how’s the novel?” Josiah inquired, giving an easy grin that was only skin deep. Time to act the good host to the woman who his soul was owed to.

Without even looking up at him, Abigail raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I must confess, before this, I haven’t had that many opportunities to read. The style is certainly dryer than what I’m accustomed to,” She noted.

Josiah had never read any Jane Austen, but he had Cervantes, and he distinctly recalled the latter saticists several centuries old verbiage equally obtuse and dry when compared to more modern texts like Twain. “Ah, well, that’s Austen,” He said conversationally. “You should try a nice Bram Stoker or Doyle.”

Roth snapped Austen shut, placing the novel down on the small table next to her, and Josiah noted her boredness was feigned: she was enjoying it a fair amount. The room might have been a private library, but he still had a few tables set up here and there on the off chance he entertained guests…or Abigail visited. “Hmm. Perhaps. I did enjoy that one story, Frankenstein,” She said, hiding the satisfaction in her voice.

“Mmm,” Josiah said, reaching into his desk, pulling out one of his drink glasses shaped like crystal skull and a bottle of Witches Brew he had been saving for an opportunity to wine and dine his guest. “Drink?”

Now, Roth’s eyes flicked upward, and for once he saw in them…intrigue. “You know, why not? I’d love to see what all the fuss is about.” Nodding, Josiah uncorked the bottle, pouring the glowing, translucent green chemical into the glasses, a noxious, acrid scent rising into the air.

Like a good host, he then brought the lady her glass, before returning to his seat and raising his glass in a small toast. “Cheers, to good fortune!” Josiah said, raising his glass, Roth amusedly returning the gesture lazily from her army chair before the pair of them each took a sip…

Causing Roth to begin coughing, throat going raspy. “God, that burns going down,” She said, cheeks flushing, while Josiah stifled a chuckle. Lightweight. “And the flavor is…” The witch grimaced, before blinking in confusion: ah, that’d be the intoxication kicking in.

“An acquired taste,” Josiah admitted. “I find it a bit like coffee, if you’ll mind the comparison. Much like coffee, however…” He took a sip, savoring the acidic tasting drink, noting it almost reminded him of a citrus fruit in flavor. “You eventually acquire a taste for it. Plus, the burning eventually gives way to a sort of numbing sensation,” He noted: made it handy when he had a sore throat from performances.

“Mmm. I must admit, the effect isn’t unpleasant. You continue to charm, Professor,” The woman said, giving a small, pleased laugh.

“Please, call me Josiah, Miss Roth: if we’re sharing a drink in my private study, I think it only appropriate I drop the titles,” Josiah requested, causing Abigail to raise an eyebrow.

“Very well, Josiah,” Abigail murmured, acceding to his demands on account of the pleasant atmosphere and powerful drink. “I’ll humor you as repayment for the very thoughtful gifts you’ve been giving me.” She hummed thoughtfully, taking another sip. “I must admit, the atmosphere is far nicer than most bars I spend my evenings at.”

Part of the ongoing electrification had involved a renovation of facilities: Josiah had focused mostly on restoring the corridors and thoroughfares of the boat, in order to improve it’s appearance for guests traversing it’s facilities. “I must admit, I am a bit curious about that: what was a powerful wielder of arcane forces doing prowling dingy bars in the underbelly of Gotham?” Josiah inquired, causing Roth to give a snort.

“You genuinely have no idea who I am, do you? She asked, curiously. “You’ve learned more about me than any other, my weaknesses and history, and yet for all of that you haven’t heard the reputation I’ve spent years building.”

Josiah frowned. She wasn’t…displeased. If anything, going by the quirk of her eyebrow, the notion might have been...either confusing or intriguing, he couldn’t tell. Hopefully the latter. “I must confess, no,” He admitted. “The name Abigail Roth has never once been one that has come up in my career.”

“...Hmm. Well, if you must know, the bars, taverns, and alcohol spigots of Gotham are places where one’s most likely to find the desperate,” Roth noted. “The sort to be desperate enough to make deals: curses to cast. Fortunes to read. Potions.”

…And demonic contracts. So, she was some sort of…infernal con-woman. “And what, you trick people into selling their souls?” Josiah asked, curiously, causing Roth to shrug.

“No: contrary to what you think, trafficking in souls is not a particularly easy art,” The witch stated with a note of frustration in her voice, causing Josiah to wince, realizing he had stepped onto the minefield that was the loss of resources her deal with him represented. “I had to use a great many resources to secure that contract. No, most of what I take from those who seek me out are more petty things: money. Their names. Their shadows. Occasionally favors, such as requiring they take other debts I’ve incurred,” She finished, taking a small sip of drink again, more eagerly this time.

“Ah, I understand: you’re a purveyor of services: no doubt one that’s well respected in the circles you travel in,” Josiah noted, taking a drink of his own, his statement causing Roth to purse her lips, eyes settling into a thoughtful expression, not wholly unpleased by the comparison and compliment.

“Perhaps. You were only offered the contract because you seemed to be, from the names you used and words you said, a masterful magician,” she admitted, causing Josiah to raise an eyebrow: she wasn’t..as upset: the drink was. “Having the services of another skilled sorcerer at my beck and call would have been oh so useful, and would make a very valuable asset should I decide to trade it away.”

…Ah, so his contract was transferable. That was good to know: Josiah took another drink, this time downing the entire contents of his cup. Time to see if he could make amends properly. “Well, I must apologize once more, Miss Roth,” He said, setting his glass down, voice deadly sincere as he stared into the womans blue eyes. “I understand how frustrating having the wool pulled from under you: I just want you to know it wasn’t intentional. I would never attempt to deceive a lady,” He said, before deciding to take a gamble. “Especially such an intelligent and lovely one as yourself,” He added, causing Roth’s eyes to widen a bit. “I do hope you’ll accept this humble entertainers contrition.”

For a moment, Roth was silent, before her mouth curled into a small, satisfied smile. “Well, I suppose I can move past it,” She purred, charmed by his compliment. “I am not an unreasonable woman, especially in the face of a man making so much of an effort to make amends: your apology is accepted, Josiah,” She said, graciously, before her eyes narrowed. “Though don’t assume you don’t still owe me: forgiveness of sin is not forgiveness of debt, and you cost me quite a bit,” She warned.

“My dear Miss Roth, as a fellow person of business I would never presume to assume so: Obviously I haven’t entirely earned your favor,” Josiah professed, allowing himself a small smirk, raising his eyebrows. “Not yet, at least: Rome was not built in a day. But you’ll find I’m very good at…getting what I want,” He said in a low, flirtatious tone of voice, taking another gamble, causing Roth to flush once more, this time just because of the brew, the witch giving a laugh.

“My, you are an AUDACIOUS one, aren’t you, Mr. Josiah?” She asked playfully, finishing her own glass.

“Would you like another drink, Miss Roth?” Josiah asked, smirk increasing. Well, that was a good sign.

“Why not?” The witch asked herself, before giving a nod, raising the skull shaped cup into the air, Josiah walking around and pouring additional brew, before he returned to his own seat and repeated the process himself. “And please, call me Abigail.”

And that was a VERY good sign. “Very well, Abigail,” Josiah said. “How about another toast then: to my continued contrition and our future as partners.” Abigail’s eyebrow raised thoughtfully.

“Very well, Josiah,” She purred. “A toast to your continued contrition and future as partners.”

And now we arrive on turn four. So, good news is, you’ve continued the charm offensive enough that Roth is no longer pissed at you: the gifts and the library were good investments in that regard. The bad news is, electrification is only part way done and now you’re dealing with that funnest of fun things, discrimination. Everythings getting yanked and you’re going into mid-february hemorrhaging customers.

Worse, you’re getting some bad press. A LOT of bad press, and it’s only going to get worse going forward. Sure, it’s not gonna make the Ring or the Lodge go away, but they aren’t enough to sustain your boat.

And with bad press comes a new antagonist: pick your poison here, going forward this character is going to make a lot of problems for you. Each have their modus operandi, and various narrative strengths and weaknesses. To be clear, this is on top of everything else. Note that there isn’t a diplomatic solution to this: you cannot friend these characters, negotiate with them, or sway them into neutrality. Code is [BADGUY].

[ ] Alexander Zeus: A rival bar owner, and one of the men orchestrating the boycott. Rich, powerful, and connected, he had decided that the Lounge needed to be ran out of business, and was working with most other bars, lounges, and places of entertainment in Gotham to see that done.

MODUS OPERANDI: Economic warfare, both above and underground. Zeus will use his money and connection to screw with you, rarely directly and rarely alone: expect a lot of doors closing, a lot of options to skyrocket in price, and for people and things affiliated with your business to start getting harassed.

[ ] Father Hughes: A staunch teetotaler and christian, this lawyer turned priest considered the Lounge a hotbed of vice, sin, and crime, which wasn’t entirely wrong. He wanted to run the place out of Gotham in order to help protect the city from the depredations of spirits, both metaphorical and literal.

MODUS OPERANDI: Legal and social attacks. Expect frivolous lawsuits, getting reported to regulatory bodies, lobbying designed to target you, protests and for the Lounge to start getting hounded by churches and religious wonks.

[ ] Chief Garret: The Kanes still hadn’t forgiven the Lounge for the Redfeather incident, and the latest news had given the affluent family to earn Josiah a permanent place on their enemy list. Garret was their pet dog: chief of the Bowery precinct in their pocket, one who was willing to bend the law when it suited their employer and convinced that making life harder for Josiah would make his bosses happy.

MODUS OPERANDI: Expect violence and the fist of the state such as inspections, raids, and harassment by the cops, as well as the occasional bit of extortion as this guy attempts to earn brownie points with the rich and shitty by making your life hell. They aren’t aiming to put you out of business, but if it happens, it happens.

And of course, we have our Hot Spot. As a reward for picking integrity, your bar is, for good or worse, considered a place that is at least inclusive, and the presence of figures such as Chalmer Chill and Burlington means that it is at least home to a few wealthy patrons of note.

These two factors will lead to the more progressive members of the Lounges upper crust deciding to contribute to a bit of charity: a brief moment of conscious. Not equivalent to systemic reform, mind you, or even what could be accomplished if they paid their fair share, but it would still be more than they might have given otherwise, and it would still help improve someone or others lives, whether yours by helping mitigate a bit of the financial hit you just took, or someone elses. So, whose day are you improving?

Action code is [HOT]

[ ] The Lounge itself: It was a shame that such a choice to support it’s performers was being met so harshly. Chill wasn’t a de-segregationist, but he could respect the spine it took to stand against the mob, and Burlington just didn’t want his favorite club to go broke. Both them and others would contribute a small portion of their fortune to create a fund to help keep the Lounge afloat in times of crisis.

[ ] The East End: The Jacobs had struck up a friendship with the Lodge, and in the process caught Burlington’s ear: the wealthy magnate would eventually collaborate with the cousins, bankrolling a project they would lead to help improve life in the neighborhood for it’s residents.

-[ ] Give me a brief idea for something designed to help the East End: it can be social institutions, it can be grants, it can be physical infrastructure, etc.

[ ] All Mankind: Chalmer Chill had had a heart of stone they said. This might have been true, but like many wealthy individuals back then, he had had a sharp interest in philanthropy and supporting various charitable endeavors with his wallet. It might have been motivated by a need to launder his reputation, but the man would donate millions to champion a cause.

-[ ] Pick a cause: it gains a massive financial shot in the arm as well as the backing of the Ring.

And now we get to the Bar stuff once more. First, let’s get this out of the way: your current financial rating is CRIMSON. You have customers, but not enough: you need to start unfucking your supply situation, quick.

First, here are your assets:

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 neccesarily 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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Right, first, let’s get the act out of the way. This time, small requirement: you have new performers, so the act needs to use someone other than Josiah. Either Violet or your new Comedians, you need to come up with material for someone other than our dear management, who is going to be very, very busy.

[ ] Insert Act Here

And now we get to priorities. First, at this point you have all the tools necessary that Josiah no longer needs to spend every turn improving his act and Roth is no longer an immediate concern. Second, you still owe Zelda: don’t forget.

Instead, Josiah is going to focus on attempting to restore his supply. Renovating part of the Lounge to serve as an indoor garden, paddling up to Metropolis to set up a supply chain, scouring Gotham Markets, you need to secure food, fuel, drinks. Action code [SUPPLY].

Next, you have your standard management AP for improving the Lounge in some way: you might invest in Crane Brews again to help lower costs (though if you do that please make sure to distinguish it from investing to start paying Zelda back), you might take out ads to bring in more customers, you might renovate some cabins. Action code [BAR].

After that, you have a social action. Catch up with Amadeus, continue to ply Abigail with gifts, socialize with Crane, or even just go out to do something fun: Josiah’s been a good boy and is solving his problems, so he gets to have some fun, even if things are gonna start getting rough. [FUN].

And as far as Josiah’s AP goes, you get one last [PERSONAL] one to use advancing whatever cause or ambition you care to.

But wait, there’s more! Because you’ve hired another employee, you get to start delegating projects a bit more: Davis has an AP of his own that can be spent on bar improvement. New furniture, additional renovation jobs, helping build the Gluckenmotor. [HANDY] is his action-code, and take this as a lesson.

Codes are [SUPPLY], [BAR], [FUN], and [PERSONAL].

[ ] Scout New Talent: Josiah probably wasn't going to find any good magic acts since Hermanns Theater existed, but Gotham had plenty of other forms of entertainment if you knew where to look. For instance, traveling carnivals, other lounges, etc.

-[ ] What kind of entertainment are you looking for? If you can think of a specific place to scout you can use it instead, but considering its turn 1 I don't imagine you'll have many ideas.

[ ] Hire New Staff: Sure, you had a bartender, but you need more than just that to run a place. Janitors, delivery people, waiters, additional bartenders who can pick up more shifts. Just keep in mind that the more people work for the Lounge, the higher its costs go.

-[ ] What kind of staff are you looking for?

[ ] Diversify Spirits: Stout produced low quality, but cheap beers. They were in your budget, but unless you diversified, the drinks would likely never be a major draw.

-[ ] What kind of alcohol are you looking for? Just a few words is fine: 'expensive wines', 'inexpensive whiskeys', 'swamp bought moonshine'.

[ ] Renovate the St. Majeste: Only part of the St. Majest was open to the public: the ship was still seaworthy inasmuch as any vessel of its class might be, but the prior owners had apparently been less than gentle with the vessels insides, meaning most of it required repair.

-[ ] Like prior options, what are you repairing? I'm not gonna list every possible space on the ship, especially since they'll probably be used for something different: instead, just specify a potential location that could conceivably exist on the ship and what you want to use it for. A gambling hall, another drink lounge, theaters, cabins people can pay to sleep in, etc.

[ ] Call On a Someone: Josiah knew a lot of people. He could lean on them for favors, or else simply visit them to deepen friendship.

-[ ] Select a character and your reason for visiting them.

[ ] Investing: If you have a particular business partner, friend, venture, or industry you want to put some of the Lounges funds into, this is the option you want.

-[ ] Who or what are you investing in, and do you have any stipulations?

[ ] Go on a Date: Ah, Romance. Select this option if you're interested in a character in a less than platonic manner. Note that they need to be someone Josiah would be interested in pursuing and of compatible orientation and gender.

-[ ] Select a character and provide a brief idea for a date.

[ ] Rumor-Hunting: Josiah has a topic he's interested in. He was going to collect rumors in the hopes of finding a lead, whether from the bars of gotham, his various old criminal contacts, calling on his mentor, or other means.

-[ ] Write in topic and means of hunting it

[ ] Gotham University Research: Gotham University was the center of academia in the city. If there was anyone who might know about various subjects such as the history of gotham, various scientific and literary facts, and other useful subjects that Josiah might find useful, it was here.

-[ ] Write in subject you're looking to research.

[ ] Write In.