Each of you are sent a personal Telegram to meet Larkin on March 18 1921 in Lima Peru. It is the tail end of summer, but it is still quite hot and humid. Your rooms have been paid for at the Hotel Maury. The rooms are well furnished but the quality is less than what one may expect from a luxury hotel in the capital of Peru. Lima in the 1920's is in the process of economic recovery and slowly becoming more cosmopolitan. It is common seeing people of different races as this is a major port city.

The Bar Cordano is a short 10 minute walk from your hotel.

The Bar is quite busy filled with people chatting and having a good time.  Well that is except for 3 people seated at a long table where there is an African American man smoking a pipe as he intently looks at the stern man giving him a hard glare. The man in the middle gives a friendly wave to direct each of you to his table.

Please introduce your characters and describe their mannerisms as they take a seat.

Here is some ambience to immerse you into the bar scene.

Walking into Bar Cordano in Lima comes a british gentleman, his gaze firm as he scans the place for Augustus Larkin. He wears an impeccable white tropical suit, his hair dark, as are his eyes, his only distinguishing feature a slightly disfiguring scar across his mouth which gives him a slightly menacing look. He quickly notices the man waving at him. Assuming it is Mr. Larkin, the british gentleman quickly orders himself a Mojito at the bar and walks over to the table with the three men. "Mr. Larkin I presume?" He says, his voice dark and firm. "I am James, James Deveraux." He adds as he seats himself at the table, his dark eyes sizing up the other two men at the table, while he casually but elegantly lights an expensive french cigarette, a habit he picked up during the Great War, and leans back in his chair, awaiting any others joining the expedition to arrive.

Max Sinclair bounced his knee nervously as he downed the last of his coffee. He took a long drag on his cigarette, the third since he’d sat down, and snuffed out the butt in the ash tray. He’d gotten to Lima a few hours earlier, and after dropping his equipment off at the hotel he’d walked to a cafe near the Cordano. He needed this expedition to go well to pay off the camera equipment, and he needed that equipment to get the shot he needed. Thumbing through his leather-bound notebook he surveyed the map where he’d had his encounter. The figures on his own film shoot were adjacent. He should have just enough after paying off his “investors” to fund the rest. But this whole Larkin thing was the lynchpin.

“¿Necesita algo más, señor?” the waitress asked.

Max put on his best smile and gave her a wink. “No, cariño, solo tomaré el café, pero avísame cuando salgas más tarde y tal vez podamos tomar una bebida de verdad.” The waitress smiled and put down the check.

Figured.

Max dropped an American dime on the tray along with his calling card. He’d jotted his room number on the card just in case the pretty waitress changed her mind. Then he stood up and lit another cigarette and started walking to the Cordano.

He’d brought one good suit to the expedition, mainly for meeting Larkin, and as he walked into the swanky Liman bar he checked his reflection in the mirror by the door. Passing a hand casually through his hair, he sauntered over to the bar and flagged the bartender.

“¿Puedo conseguir uno anticuado, jefe? Ponlo en la pestaña Larkin.” As he waited for his drink, he lit another cigarette and looked around, scanning the room with thoughtful eyes. He saw the trio of men at the table and noted the one waving him down. He grabbed his drink and took a sip, then headed over.

“Name’s Sinclair,” he said. “Max Sinclair. Which one of you is Larkin?”

Entering such a bustling establishment Aiden can't help but smile as this is the closest he's felt at home since coming to Peru. The chatting, the revelry, the jovial atmosphere was his kind of thing. He looks around and spotting the man waving to him he can only assume that's who he's working for. Helps that he saw a picture of the man too.

Aiden is in his typical getup. His signature Bandera cap topped on his head that brings some contrast to his slightly tanned skin and the white pin strip shirt that currently has the sleeves rolled up on. A pair thin of suspenders attached to a belt that holds the more dangerous of his arsenal.  

As his blue eyes full of energy scan the folks here and he kind of mentally surveys the folks hell be working for. The only new thing he opted for was some new pants at least. Bit tight but he figured this was something a bit more formal and having patches on the knees didn't seem proper.

Aiden notices the tension and in his normal fashion, breaks it. "Oi, glare any hardah and ya might see ya reflection. Lighten up man. Supos'd ta be meet an' greet ya?" He slaps the back of the man glaring hard enough to make him lose his stare. Then sits down like everything was nice and ordinary. 

"Ello' sirs and mams. Aiden McTagger. At ya service. I'lls be taken care of a veriety of things fer the expedition. Decent cooking, luggage moving, paintin' if that's yer fancy, I'm also a good hand at cards, ya name it I gots it covered. I's got skills in all kinda things and am kinda yer jack-of-all trades. Jus' don' go callin me jack is all. Haha."

Edward strode into the bar a bit nervously. He was sure he could handle whatever the expedition threw at him, but a joint this lively (and fancy!) was more than he was used to. Standing straighter as he stepped aside from blocking the entrance, he slowly looked around until he noticed the gentleman waving him over.  Relieved at not having to track the man down, Ed smiled and waved an acknowledgement before calmly walking over to the table.

The young man was dressed well-enough, in a dress shirt, light-colored suit vest, slacks and boots, with all the trappings of an adventurous lad about him (including the revolver on his hip.) His blonde hair was neatly trimmed and slicked back, a style he'd gotten used to during his circus performances. He played the part of a sophisticated, sharpshooting young aristocrat better on stage than in real life though. Yes, it helped that his father had actually made it into higher society, but sophistication wasn't exactly Ed's strong point. At least he had the sharpshooting down... once they were on the trails, he could relax and focus on that.

"Hey, gents!" he said in greeting as he took a seat. He continued, "Name's Edward Clayton!" before he could stop himself. Of course, the man who waved him over, at least, would know who he was. Probably. But... well, maybe the others at the table needed the introduction. ("Quite the motley crew," he thought to himself even while worrying.)

Smiling at everyone seated, Ed leaned back, folded his hands on his stomach, and decided to ignore the possible etiquette breach and simply wait for his host to speak before saying anything further.

Max nodded to Edward, Aiden, and James.

"Cheers, gents. I'm Max Sinclair. Pleased to meet all of you." He finished his cigarette and pulled out another, lighting it with a match. "I'm sure our host, Mr. Larkin has a prepared speech, but by way of introductions, what do each of you bring to this little expedition?"

 Ed chuckled at the question as he looked Max over.

"Well, what I bring to the table, Mr. Sinclair," he began, "is a bit of firepower. Not just that I can shoot a gun--most anyone can--but you'll probably not find a better shot this side of the Amazon. Made a name for myself as a trickshot in the States, in fact, as 'The Amazing Echo,' on account of how all my shots sounded the same, and hit the same spot. And I may not look it, but I'm pretty handy in a scrap, too. And by pretty handy, I mean amazingly handy."

The young man thought to bring up his father's name, just as an added credential--knowing that a famous world explorer had trained him had silenced a doubter or two in the past--but he immediately rejected the idea, wanting to instead stand on his own merits. And despite going all-in on the boasting, he certainly wasn't going to bring up his "abilities!" Even if doing so didn't result in him being kicked out of the expedition, it certainly wouldn't make life any easier for him if they were common knowledge. Fortunately, even without those added qualifications, he had been through enough to know his own capabilities.

He leveled a steely gaze at Max and smiled confidently. "Just rest assured, that if--when--we run into trouble, I'll be johnny-on-the-spot to handle it."

“I shoot a different kind of device - a camera!” Max chuckled at his own joke.

“Where are you from, Ed? Is that a Texan accent I detect? I myself live out in California, Los Angeles to be exact. I’m in the film business. Have you ever considered a career in the movies?” Max liked that there was an other American in the crew. 

“After we finish this little Peruvian excursion, I might have need for a sturdy fellow like you. From the sounds of it, you’ve brought yourself up by your bootstraps, just like me. Not relying on a family name and such. But have you ever gotten into the forests of the Pacific Northwest? Beautiful country up there. I plan to shoot it.”

Max bit the inside of his cheek. He talked too much when he was nervous and he needed to be careful. He looked to the others to strike up friendly conversation. 

[ooc: for clarity, Max is American and smokes lucky strikes. Devereaux is the Brit who smokes the gallauex]

A small woman scurries into the room, wearing a black pinafore over shirtsleeves, with a wraparound heavy leather apron covering most of the clothing. There are burn marks and stains all over the apron and her shirtsleeves, earning her an admonishing look from the hotel staff as she makes her way over to the table. 

"Am I late? Sorry! I got a bit distracted. Mr Larkin? My name is Lola. Lola Smythe-Whyte."

She stops short as she takes in the group, her eyes skittering over all the masculine faces. "Uhh... Is this all of us, sir? I had been under the impression... Am I the only female in the party? Oh, this is all very modern..." She sits down suddenly, a pair of goggles and a wooden stirring stick falling out of her apron pocket as she does so. The stick sizzles slightly as it makes contact with the dust on the floor. 

Larkin lets out a chuckle upon seeing Lola arrive. "Yes I am Augustus Larkin and I thank each of you for joining my expedition.This gruff man to my left is my associate Luis de Mendoza and to my right is the Folklorist Jesse Hughes. I also would like to thank Mr. Deveraux for backing this expedition. I hope you found your accommodations satisfactory as the Hotel Maury is one of the best in Lima. The bar Cordano is well known for the Pisco Sour drink and I recommend the Escabeche"

Luis just gives Aiden a snort of derision.

Jesse Hughes nods politely to each person as he lets out a puff smoke.

Larkin calls over a waiter and waits for everyone to order what they want for their dinner before continuing.

You see a pale, thin white man with greasy blond hair and pale blue eyes. Despite his relative youth, his skin is saggy and he has noticeable bags under his eyes. Larkin’s white linen suit also appears baggy; an indication that he has recently lost a significant amount of weight. He wears expensive cologne in excessive quantities

Everyone please roll Perception DC 15

For those that pass, check spoiler

(( Edward's Perception Check: 19 ))

Quote from chrisbodmann >>

“Where are you from, Ed? Is that a Texan accent I detect? I myself live out in California, Los Angeles to be exact. I’m in the film business. Have you ever considered a career in the movies?”

"The great state of Ohio, actually," replied Ed, before letting Max continue his spiel. Edward had never considered the film industry--in his family it would practically have gotten him disinherited to have even vocalized such a thought. He was about to respond again when the latest companion--Lola, apparently--joined them. She seemed to be the last of the crew, as Larkin got straight to business after her arrival. The young adventurer simply ordered a lager and a healthy portion of beef, then sat back, waiting for their host to continue while he scrutinized the man.

Lola's perception check 17

Lola nods to each of the men being introduced. She squints at Larkin for a moment before turning to give her order to the waiter, smiling. "What do you recommend? It's my first time in Lima. First time... anywhere, really." 

(Insight check on Larkin? Does he seem strange in any other way apart from what has already been noticed? Ins: 19)

She notices the goggles and stick that had fallen on the floor and hurriedly collects them, stowing them away in one of her capacious pockets.

"I's a man of many talents as I said, I can handle lotsa stuff. Ain'ts too bad with a gun but I shine best up close. I gots yer back when it comes ta any trouble. If ya lookin' fer other skills i gots talent fer cookin' though i don' get ta cook as much as I like. Dozen other skills and such. All around good general fixer fer ya needs."

 He looks to Ed and max as he says "Good ta hear I ain't the only American. Ohio and California eh? Ain't nevah been ta those places. Lived ma life in the big city of New York. This be my firs' time ta even leave the state. No fer lack of interest mind ya, jus' alwsys stuff ta do. This been a real treat ta change it up fer me. Love ta see ya in action Ed, sounds like I can learn stuff from ya. I gots ta say, sounds like fun ta be on one of those movies. Ya one'ah dem big shots Max? "

When Lola arrives and apologizes for being late he replies "Nah, we all jus' got here mam. Ya right on time."  

As Larkin gives introductions and Luis gives the cold shoulder Aiden just smiles. He can't read the menu though. Not unless it's in plain ol'english. So he just orders what was recommended saying "Oi, ya I'll take that piss drink. Sounds greats, I gotta say, big perk ta visitin' Peru ain't no prohibition in this country. I'll take two even. Haha, no idea what an escaleblah is but I'll have one of them too."

Perception: Unable to parse dice roll.

Max nods to Lola, standing and reaching out to take her hand. “Charmed to make your acquaintance, miss.”

To Aiden, he shakes his head. “No, I’m not a big shot, not yet. I’ve got something in the works, though, so remember the name Max Sinclair!” He chuckles nervously. 

“Edward, my apologies. I’m sure an Ohio man doesn’t take kindly to being accused of being from Texas.”

“I’ll stick with the old fashioned; and I’ll have a porterhouse, rare, with asparagus and a wedge salad, please.” He notes the waiter’s wrist and jots a note down in his notebook. 

“Mr. Devereaux, thank you for making this all possible. I’ll be sure to remember your hospitality.” Knowing Devereaux is the money changes Max’s focus away from Larkin. “From where do you hail, good sir?”