#bergen_county

"GREEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGEEE."

"White is only slightly better. Feh!"

"nothing a lick of paint can't fix if you're so inclined" Overhearing the nocker if not the troll. "Or maybe some family photos"

"Paint would help."

"I wouldn't mind a photo of mom here somewhere" Gwen admits

"East enough."

Sally Mae guides them through to another small room, a desk, a striped couch, and a wardrobe/dresser "This is a nice quiet area you can do some paper work, put up your lap top, study as needed."

Gwen looks at the ceiling fan that threatens to touch her head "I can think of ONE problem with it"

"Whose fault is that? Shouldn't have eaten so many Wheaties."

"Have to eat my wheaties" The troll replies trying to hide her smile "I'm a champion."

Her mouth tugs to the side in a smirk.

"Now this room does not have as much decoration in it currently, but it would easily be opened to your style or preference" Sally Mae points out the bright side "And mostly you'd be sitting down in it." She says "Now this next bed room , I find to be rather elegant" She leads them on

More white, elegant, almost delicate. The bed somewhat catty cornered in the corner but it works

Gwen 's fall on one wall "Wait, is that ALL closet space?" She moves to it "Wow. Makes me wish I had more clothes"

Thistle tends to snoop around outlets, baseboards, windowsills - looking for faults, for cracks, for warning signs of hidden problems.

"Make the big closet an Ivan Apartment."

"Mmm maybe" Gwen considers

And Thistle finds out there's a hollow sound in the floor... not anywhere obvious, under the bed

Rap-rap?

Seems localalized, she'd estimate it's a cache about the size of of a brief case... Rap Rap... no, larger than that, small suit case.

She'd need to move the bed to be sure

"Hey, Balboa!"

Rap. Fingertips feeling for an edge or a join... maybe a trigger?

"Thistle? What are you... sec, pardon me, Sally mae" She moves to her friend "Why are you half under the bed?"

"Somethin's under here. Could you lift this thing up?"

Wood panel slight edge, might lift... but yeah, need to move the bed

"What, the bed?" She says but grabs a side and starts to lift.

Sally Mae arches a brow "None of this is paid for yet, just saying do be careful."

"8.5 times out of ten, thistle knows what she's doing" Gwen assures

"We're careful!"

"...ish"

She presses a calloused thumb against the edge and pulls upwards.

And sure enough, there's a smuggler's cache kind of set up, meant to look like the floor, about the size of YES, a small suitcase in dimensions. It's professionally done, and within it are ... bottles and a small black journal

"Ooo..."

Thistle snags the goodies and sets them aside before closing the hatch. "Okay, Atlas."

She sets it down gently

A bottle of 90 or so year old brandy, unoppened!

Thistle sorts through the bottles. "Fancy schmancy."

And Cognac bottle? Just as old. Sealed tight.

There's a sense of glamour about them, not saying they are treasures, but they might count as dross.

Squinty-face as she kens them.

The last bottle is almost a voice for the common man, whiskey, no less old and likely has a kick that could make mules blush

Dreams touched these. Dreams of rebellion, of indulgence, and dreams of decadence in fine mixes.

"I wonder if these are, like, Prohibition old."

Mostly anticipation

She opens the book!

The journal confirms the date. Yes, these hail back from the Prohibition days. And the book? It's like having a book on the occult hidden in the vatican!

For it carries notes of ways of brewing, vinting, and otherwise making booze of various sorts. It has not just instructions, but recipies for food using the liquors.

Of greater interest to ANY Nocker might be instructions how to set up your own still and other other fermenting machines and devices.

Gwen peeks over her friend's shoulder "Julius would love this. I mean, I bet he knows all this but maybe there's something rare in this? But he'd love it"