Bed Rest. (Saturday Morning, Rose -Closed)

Dexter Drake will return home from his trip to England at roughly 1am in the Morning. He is fighting a wicked cold and after brewing himself a hot cup of earl grey with honey, he'll lay himself down after cranking up the heat in his apartment.

The cup gets slowly half drained as he warms himself under the blankets.

He hasn't bothered to unpack any of his things or even to strip off his traveling clothes. His shoes are set aside neatly in the entrance closet however. His suitcases sit in a pile near his coffee table.

His gentle snoring fills his apartment moments after his head hits the pillow...

Rose was already fast asleep when he returned home, and with all of her running around town, keeping up with running his shop, and making her own bit of money on the side telling fortunes, selling charms, and medicines, had certainly worn her out.

In the morning, however, she would have woken to his coughs throughout the night, but both ecstatic and happy that he was finally home. She'd race to her cloak with a metal tea ball, hanging on a coat hanger in his flat, then start going through the hundreds of pockets lining the inside of her cloak until she found what she was looking for to stuff into the tea ball: elder and yarrow flower, peppermint leaves, rose hips, cinnamon bark, ginger, safflower petals, clove flower buds, licorice root, and hyssop herb -- a rather ancient gypsy remedy for fighting colds quickly.

After brewing some water, she'd toss the tea ball into the kettle and let it steep, before making her way into Dexter's bedroom. She'd smile as she'd lay next to him, breathing in the salty sea air from his skin before showering his body with kisses, whispering softly in an almost playful sing song way, "My sea fairing laden love, we need to get you well...so you can tell me of your tales and what you've learned on your adventures. I have a medicinal tea waiting on you, dearest."

He'd smile softly and his eyes would squint open a tiny bit to look upon her. But after rousing himself to take a few sips of her herbal tea, he'd drift back off to the land of dreams.

His coat hid a tiny journal full of his extensive hand copied notes. It was written in a strange code that Rose was barely able to identify due to the use of strange symbols. It wasn't written in a foreign language, but instead in a perplexing cipher that was beyond her ability to understand at the moment. There were a number of geometric diagrams with attached notation that rose recognized from her extensive studies of the occult, but there was simply too much to puzzle out without extensive study and a way to decipher Drake's code.

"mmm..hrmm..mnn.." He'd say mixed between his gentle snoring. He was a very sleepy magician.

After making sure he got some of the herbal tea in him, she'd wander to unpack his things so he would have one less thing to worry about when he'd wake. Noticing his coat felt slightly heavier, she'd soon find the journal in his pocket and set it on the arm of a chair while she finished putting away his belongings, the moved to sit in the chair and began to study the language, trying to find words she might recognize. She'd also intently study the geometric diagrams, wondering what it all meant.

This went on for several hours while Dexter slept, as she tried to piece some of his notes together.

He'd stir from time to time and peek into the room where Rose was studying his book.

"I know its gibberish right now, but i'll explain it all soon." he'd say with a giant yawn.

The magician wandered over and casually draped his arms over her from behind in a loving embrace. He'd point out a few symbols and tell her what they meant and answer a few questions before he became too sleepy to continue replying to her persistent interrogation.

He wanted to help, but between his yawning and sneezing he wasn't much good for anything. He didn't like teasing Rose with secrets involving the occult and did his best to at least give her something to go off of before he passed out. Dexter didn't keep a translation or key for his cryptic writings, so she would need to learn directly from him how to understand the journal.

She'd give a nod and as he'd wrap her arms around her, she'd lovingly lean her head against them, giving his arm a kiss, listening intently as he pointed out those symbols.

Throughout the day, she'd make sure that Dexter was well taken care of, fixing him meals, making sure he got her herbal tea, and to make sure that he got enough rest so she could pester him some more once he got better.

Anyone who knew Rose well, knew that she was a stubborn woman, so the majority of the day was spent tirelessly studying the book in hopes of learning how to decipher Dexter's notes.

She began to wonder where exactly, or from whom, he had learned to take notes from. From what she had read on Da Vinci, she was convinced Dexter may have learned a bit from him since the man was known for encrypting some of his notes or inventions to the point where next to no one could read or rebuild his creations. She wondered the same of Dexter.

As of February 6th 1932, Dexter has beat his little cold and is up and around. He goes to work as normal and will spend time romancing Rose and helping her learn his code. (She has a good excuse to buy the codes skill now..)

To make a long story short, The journal notes the oncoming event of a celestial conjunction. The stars are aligning in such a way that it is possible that gates to the beyond may open between earth and the infinite abyss. Inscribed within are the beginning formulae for incantations to banish these frightening phenomenon. But even with as well versed as Rose is with the occult and the world unseen, she has a difficult time swallowing the gravity of the events predicted by Dexter Drakes friend the now infamous Dr. Theodore Willet. The dates are cryptic and even with both of your advanced levels of Secret Knowledge, it is impossible to date when exactly this will take place. All signs point to within a year or two however....

((Scene Continues February 9th, 1932. Early, Closed))


((I will most certainly do! 1 dot? or would she be able to qualify for 2?))

As the days passed, she was most certainly happy to see Dexter back in better health, and the romancing definitely was a plus as she seemed almost tireless when it came to his advances.

When he was teaching her to learn the code, he would find her to be quite the dedicated student, even going into the wee hours of the night on her studies until she had perfected it enough to understand a fair amount of it.

What she learned from both the journal and from Dexter certainly was a great deal to take in, and even then, she still questioned it...especially as it involved that Nazi Whillet...

While Dexter was lounging with her in his living room, she'd set the journal down for a moment and look to him, "How exactly deed' your friend even come about hearing all ov' dis'? End' ze' reason for you to go overseas for eet'? End' vat' exactly ees' dis' 'phenomenon'?

"Your Thunderbolt club is not a unique organization. I went to London to meet with a group not unlike your own. There are many such groups of like-minded and gifted people throughout the world. I have met many of them and have seen quite a few of them fall apart or simply vanish... Rose, Dr. Willet is a good man and hero in my book and he stands against the meddling of fools who seek to hasten our destruction." He says passionately.

"I wish I knew exactly what was going to happen. There isn't enough information in the texts that we reviewed to give a definitive answer to our questions, as far as we have been able to determine this conjunction will weaken the normal barriers and boundaries between our world and the great unknown beyond. It will not be the first time this has happened and someday will happen again. Disasters of tremendous magnitude have been known to happen in the wake of these events. Wars, natural catastrophes, plagues and madness spread like cancer..." He trails off rubbing his temples.

"I know all of this is difficult to believe and I would not be the first madman to scream about the end being nigh and doom befalling us all, but I swear to you that this event is coming and unless we prepare for it, everything good in this world may be torn from the face of the earth."

Rose would think for several moments, "Vare' else might ve' be able to look to find more information on how to deal vith' dis' future disaster, since eet' has been addressed before een' de' past?"

"End' how exactly can vee' prepare for something ov' dis' magnitude thet' you speak ov'?

She wanted to believe Dexter on his statements of Dr. Willet, but knew that she'd have to make that discovery on her own whether he was a good man or not. She remembered something though that she thought she should tell him. Taking his hand in her own, her gaze saddened a bit, "Love, speaking ov' Dr. Villet'. I know thet' you just recently got beck', end' didn't know if you had already heard, but I found out from several et' our meeting that Dr. Villet' suffered a stroke. I didn't know if vee' might possibly go try to visit end' take some flowers to him end' vish' him a quick recovery?"

He looks shocked when he hears about Dr. Willets stroke.

His face scrunches up as he fights back tears, his head shaking from one side to the other slowly. He regains his composure before speaking once more.

"There are so many things that I don't know just yet Rose, i'm doing my best to figure out the answers to all of your questions. We should go and visit him, flowers sound like a lovely idea.." He says with great sadness in his voice.

He'll reach out and hold her hand for a moment taking comfort in her presence.

As she saw the tears in his eyes, she felt a twinge of pain within her as it hurt her to see him upset. She'd wrap her arms gently, yet firmly around him in a loving, comforting embrace before he'd regain his composure. She knew how much the man meant to him and he knew that he'd have her support.

As he spoke, she'd nod and kiss his cheek, "I'll get dressed een' more proper attire for eh' visit."

Not wanting to look like a 'witch' on an important hospital visit, she'd go into his bedroom to the closet where she had stowed away some of her home made or some she had bought off of the train station office, when they'd get rid of the baggage that would go unclaimed for a long enough time.

After disrobing and even quickly styling her hair, Rose would walk out with her long, chocolate wavy curls falling to her midback, along with a stylish light peach colored, long sleeve dress.




It was strange how much the woman preferred the more mysterious, enigmatic look, when she could pull off the fashions of the 1930's incredibly well. As she'd exit from his bedroom, she'd look to him and extend a hand, "Shall vee', love?"

The Magician takes a double take.

"You look.. incredible." He'd stay staggering to his feet, clearly dumbstruck by the transformation.

He'd fumble nervously with closet grabbing her coat and offering to help her into it. It was as if they had just met each other all over, gauging by how star-struck he was by her.

"I have no qualms with your normal attire, but I must admit that this look suits you very well Rose." He says blushing furiously.

He'll pull on his long wool coat and open the door for her and offer his arm for the descent down the snowy stairs.

He would probably discover that this was the exact reason why she hid under her cloak so often. When you're trying to be as sneaky and clever, you get away with it much better when you go unnoticed and as something many of the townspeople tried to avoid as much as possible. Her beauty made her more noticeable to others, and in a way, she thought of it as a bit of a curse.

But the attention given by her beloved, on the other hand...well...she definitely made a mental note to maybe dress like this around him a bit more often. Maybe she'd get rewarded with more 'tossing round the sheets' with him.

Rose would chuckle softly at his reaction as she'd slip on a pair of off-white, heeled shoes. She'd accept the help as he'd slide her coat onto her, blushing slightly at his comment. She'd then reach out and gently place her hand on his cheek, and press her lips tenderly against his, "You truly are too kind, my love."

She would indeed accept his arm and follow him out, looking about at any passersby.

The pair make their way to St. Mary's to pay Dr. Willet a visit. Along the way they pick up a bouquet of flowers and a decorative glass vase to water them in.

The old man doesn't look so good. His ribs are bruised from what looks to be a punch-shaped mark and the nurse says that he was masking the injury for some time.. It may have resulted in a blood clot which in turn might have caused the stroke.

Rose might remember watching Professor Longfellow strike acting Dean Willet when he tried to dismiss him from his position.

Currently he is resting peacefully and the Nurse says that she expects him to make at least a partial recovery from the stroke. With some therapy and good professional care he will likely be able to walk and talk again by this time next year she estimates. Apparently he's been awake once or twice already. His cognitive and motor functions have been severely damaged, but he responds to his name and can move one half of his body. The fierce man that Rose had seen was not resting in the bed in front of her. Here was a crippled and broken thing that would likely never fully recover.

While they were picking the flowers, Rose would pick several sprigs of lavender and stems of orchid to give the bouquet a more exotic look.

As they arrive at the hospital, Rose couldn't believe how badly the condition of the man really was. When she saw the punch mark, she certainly did remember the professor striking the man. The professor had already earned quite a few bad marks in her book so far and truly began to wonder if Willet really was the bad guy she thought him to be..

As she looked at the man's wounds, Dexter was probably already aware of the gypsy's racing mind for herbal remedies to sneak in to the man. He held some of the answers to some of her questions regarding the strange phenomenon to happen and regardless of what the nurse said of his recovery, Rose refused to accept this as by the time the nurse assumed his recovery, they might all be dead from this future threat. She HAD to do something...

Rose held Dexter's hand, but as the nurse left, she'd move to the man's bedside. Almost matriarch-like, she'd reach a hand out and gently smooth the crippled man's hair out, then fix his pillow a bit while he was sleeping, so that he might be more comfortable. Clearly, Rose was thinking the man a Nazi less and less...and began to question the true meanings behind his actions from when she had met him previously in the past.

He seems well cared for. The best money could buy in fact.

He certainly appeared Western European, but did not have any tell-tale stereotypical 'German' features. Willet looked peaceful in fact and it was hard to believe this was the raging pugnacious man she had met in the past.

Utilizing her medical skills, she can tell that there is nothing more that can be done for that man. He simply needs rest and extensive rehabilitation after he is released. Given his advanced age (7o's) He won't likely fully recover. The herbs that she has smuggled in will likely decrease his recovery time, and she knows shes done the best that she can.

Dexter looks devastated by the state of his friend, but maintains a stiff upper-lip. He was not prone to weeping and has known misery and pain as familiar companions throughout his life.
He pats his friend on the shoulder and takes notice of the fist-print bruise in his chest. He looks quite angry for a moment before he calms himself by rubbing roses partially exposed shoulder.

"Let's go home Rose. I think it would be best for our minds for us to share a bottle of wine together and then see what else we can find to distract ourselves for the long cold night." He says with a half-smile. His sentiment is honest as is his desire, but its obvious that he is masking his fury and heart-break. Men were funny like that.

After assessing his features more carefully, now that she could get a better look at him, her heart sunk slightly as she realized he wasn't a german. Was she any better a person than those here or in Europe that assumed her a 'river rat' or a 'lady of the night' when she was neither? She definitely felt like she owed the man a fair bit for misjudging him as well as informing her love of the dangers ahead. She would make sure from this day on, to visit him almost daily, and eventually earn the man's friendship.

Rose could tell, with barely any signs shown, how much it hurt Dexter to see his friend like this. She at least knew the man responsible for the blow, but didn't dare speak it as this was a bit of a fragile time for her beau. As she felt his hand upon her shoulder, she'd turn her gaze to him, then give a nod as she'd rise to her feet. "Yes, I agree. De' man needs rest, end' vee' should leave him to eet'. Eh' bottle ov' wine sounds just perfect."

After being at St. Mary's for about an hour they return to Dexter's Domicile to enjoy the night in. The temperatures plummet that night bringing a fresh coat of ice and frost to Arkham Beach. However the happy young couple don't seem to notice.