Office of the Vice-President of The Daily Days, New York
September, 1934
6:03 PM

A fan spins slowly overhead, blowing cigarette smoke lazily around the room. The evening sun pokes in through the blinds lowered over the windows. From the street below, the sounds and smells of Chinatown rise up through the air.

“The Flying Avocado pulled into Penn Station shortly after 2 o’clock this afternoon,” the Vice-President says. He leans forward in his chair, hands carefully folding a bit of paper on his desk. “State, local, and federal authorities detained the surviving passengers when they arrived Newark, but after only a few hours they were released and allowed to cross over into Manhattan.”

“That is correct, sir.” Across the desk sits an agent of the Daily Days. To the public, the Days is just another newspaper, albeit one with a good reputation; to those in the know, the Days is an information broker that keeps meticulous record of just about everything that happens anywhere in the world.

The Vice-President continues. “The first body was discovered near where the Avocado switched tracks in St. Louis, but for the past 36 hours they have been finding more and more bodies all up and down the line. None of this has been mentioned in any newspapers. No arrests made, no charges filed. It would appear that some very expensive palms have been greased to keep what happened on board that train from ever being made public.”

“Yes sir.”

“I understand you were able to travel incognito aboard the Flying Avocado. I am very glad to see you are alive and well. I would also like very much if you could explain what happened.”

“Yes sir,” The agent says. They are alive, true, but ‘well’ is pushing it. Cuts, bruises, a broken arm, blood-stained clothes. They’ve clearly had a rough time of it. Nevertheless, they go ahead with their report.

“I was using my journalist cover. Ostensibly I was writing a fluff piece on the Avocado’s maiden trip across the country,” The agent begins.“It was a brand new locomotive, one of the fastest in the country and no expenses spared on style. A bit gaudy, if you ask me, but some people go for that sort of thing.”
“Hmm. Any why were you really there?”
“The West Coast branch of the Days had noticed that a number of persons of interest were all set to travel on board. We thought it might be worth knowing why.”
“Persons of interest. You mean the Mafia? Camorra?”
“Well, them too, but I mean Immortals. Sir.”
The Vice-President leans back, steepling his fingers together. “I see.”
“ Nothing unusual happened when we boarded. None of the Immortals seemed to interact or even realize there were others on board. I was about to chalk it up to pure coincidence. Then the trouble started about six hours after we’d left the station. That’s when we heard the screams.”
“Screams?”
“Yes. Someone had found the conductors. They were all murdered.”
“Murdered? By whom?”
“That’s what all the other passengers wanted to find out. Everyone got real spooked and they ended up starting a kind of manhunt. Looking for the killers, you see.”
“I see. And what happened then?”
“Well sir,” the agent sighs. “That’s where it gets a bit complicated.”

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This is DAY ONE. The train conductors have just been MURDERED. In the Vote Thread, comment with the name of another player. Whichever player receives the most votes will be thrown off the train. The Day will end on Sunday at Midnight, Eastern Daylight Time.

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