Romero

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

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@Lady Selune@psych0pomp

Mister Violet's glanced down at the gesture from Renee Bellerose, taking in her dark clothing for a moment, before realisation seemed to strike him. Stepping back sharply, the man held his hands up in apology.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle."

His face twisted for a moment, the smile fading, but before Mister Violet could speak again, the voice of Moses Reaves from further up the path, and the quickened pace of Renee herself, interrupted him. Glancing around at their surroundings, the darkness of the Wilde Woods looming over them from one side, and Arkham under the shadow of night on the other, Mister Violet frowned. Even for someone who knew this path, it was near-impossible to get any sense of bearing in the darkness that surrounded them.

"My mother always used to say that it is better to push forwards than turn back, and I am loath to disagree with her. So long as we keep the city to one side, and the forest to the other, then we are certain to strike something. Eventually."

Mister Violet watched Moses pull the tree branch free with curiosity. With the darkness closing in all around them, it would not take some great leap to think that the tree branch that the man now clasped in his hands was a weapon. After all, there were few that roamed the streets of Arkham after dark, and on this half-forgotten road, strangers could very quickly start to look like enemies. Yet if any of these thoughts crossed Mister Violet's mind, it did not show on his smiling face.

"Well, I hope it will not come to that."

His gaze moving past Moses, and moving along the path that still lay ahead of them, Mister Violet squinted for a moment, before his eyes seemed to light up. Pointing ahead, the others turned to follow the man's gesture as he spoke.

"Perhaps you spoke too soon, Deacon. I'll be damned if that isn't a light up ahead. Where there's light, there's road. And where there's roads, there's carriages."

Both Moses and Renee squinted against the darkness for a moment, straining to make out what Mister Violet was claiming, but sure enough, as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could both make out a light, still some distance ahead of them, but tangible, and something to head towards. From this distance, neither of the two guests could be certain what the light was, but Mister Violet seemed to be confident, striding past Moses, and leading the unusual tree onwards, leaving Moses and Renee to follow behind.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

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@Kazemitsu@DruSM157@sassy1085

Avery Wildes smiled again, nodding her head towards Rosanna Liang as the petite woman curtsied. The smile didn't falter, as Rosanna thrust a hand in her direction, but one perfectly formed eyebrow, as pale as the rest of her hair, rose slightly above the dark shape of her mask in curiosity. She barely missed a beat though, politely taking Rosanna's hand in a surprisingly firm grip, and shaking it for a moment, before her attention turned back to the other inhabitants of the carriage.

As her gaze drifted over the formidable figure of Drachen Steinboden, the tall man nodded his head towards her, the sheer size of his frame, and the constricting space of the carriage interior, ruling out any more elaborate gesture.

"The journey was a fine one. Thank you for the invitation."

Avery Wildes smiled again, and a light seemed to dance in her blue eyes for a moment as she waved away Drachen's thanks.

"Nonsense. There is no need to thank me. Now, I expect you'll want to get inside?"

Stepping aside slightly, the lady of the house ushered the three guests from the carriage. As soon as they stepped out of the relative shelter of the carriage's interior, the biting chill in the wind served as a harsh reminder of the closing night, the wind moving through the trees all around them sounding like waves against the shore. With the darkness seeming to press in from all sides, the light that spilled out from Wilde Hall suddenly became far more enticing, and all three of the guests found their feet moving them towards the impressive doorway.

As they moved towards the house, the gravel of the drive crunching beneath their feet, Rosanna realised that their host was not with them. Glancing back the way they had come, she saw that the coachman had climbed down from his seat on the carriage, and was standing close to Avery. Any conversation that Rosanna might have been able to make out was snatched away by the wind, but something about the way the pair were standing put Rosanna on edge. The gaze of the coachman suddenly snapped to her, and Rosanna's breath caught in her throat, whipping her head back around, and walking towards the house a little quicker. What had she seen? An employer talking to her employee, but there was something about it that made her feel as if she had overstepped, or seen something she was not meant to. Maybe the looming shadows of the Wilde Woods had had more of an affect on her than she had realised.

While Rosanna had turned her attention back towards the carriage, Alvin Fennel had been enraptured by Wilde Hall itself. The opulence of it, the grandeur, it was like he had stepped through the looking glass, and into another world. He tried to take it all in, his gaze flitting from one impressive feature to the next, from one window to another, and then it caught his eye. It was fleeting, little more than movement in a shadow, but he swore he had seen it. In one of the windows, on the third floor, a figure. They had been dark, but tall, and looking down at the three of them as they approached, and gone by the time he looked for it again. Alvin glanced at his companions, had they seen it too? Rosanna seemed on edge of all a sudden, but Drachen's face was unflinching. Had it been a trick of the light, a servant or guest simply pausing to look out, or something altogether more sinister?

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

If you're waiting for an update, then keep your eyes peeled! I've cleared tomorrow to rattle through them all, so your wait should be almost over. Really enjoying what everyone is doing with their characters, and looking forward to seeing what transpires as things heat up!

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

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@Penny[@Dark Cloud

For a long moment, Morgan Eisenhorn didn't move, seemingly paralysed in the face of the coachman, and then he suddenly seemed to find his nerve, and one hand reached into his jacket pocket. The hand reappeared clutching the thick card that Opportunity Knox recognised, as it was the same invitation that was in her own pocket. The coachman, seeming to grow impatient now, or perhaps just aware of how long they had already dallied on the steps of The Excelsior, took the invitation from Morgan's hand, holding it towards the light spilling out from the hotel as his eyes scanned the text.

"Mister Slate."

Passing the invitation back to the other man, the coachman gestured again towards the open door of the carriage, his face visibly softening as he turned back to Opportunity.

"If you're ready ma'am, we really should be going. Lady Wildes doesn't like to be kept waiting."

As if on cue, a wind howled down the street, suddenly filling the air with a bitter chill, and the coachman glanced back towards the street that Morgan had arrived from, squaring his jaw. Whether it had been the creation of an overactive imagination, or something altogether more sinister, whatever it was that had hounded Morgan towards the Excelsior has clearly unsettled the coachman, and it was evident to both of the guest's that it wasn't just the ire of his employer that was causing the man to hurry them along.

Seeming to remember his manners, Morgan took a step closer to the carriage, before offering his hand to help Opportunity climb aboard. Whether she took his hand or not, he followed after her into the carriage, and almost before they were seated, it started forwards, the cry of the coachman as the horses began to move.

There was a few beats of silence, the only sound coming from the carriage wheels and horses hooves against the street, before Morgan turned towards Opportunity, a sheepish smile on his face as he attempted to strike up a conversation.

"An unusual meeting, but I'm grateful for you allowing me to share your carriage. I assume you know the Wildes then?"

Post Deletion Request

To the great and generous moderators,

Could you please delete this post. Accidentally posted in the wrong tab.

Thank you in advance.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

@DruSM157@Dark Cloud My last couple of days have been hectic, so I haven't been as on top of posts as I want to be, but if there's still no sign of posts from you guys when I get up tomorrow, then I'm moving the story on.

Thank you to everyone else who has posted (or are working through posts in PMs with me/held up by others not posting). Sorry for the slight hold up, but I'm through the worst of it, and I should be able to give my full attention to make sure we stay on track!

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

Let's see those posts soon as people! I don't want to be hounding people for posts, but I'll start being more direct if I'm still short on posts by the end of the day. If you're struggling for inspiration, or don't feel like you have enough to put a post together, get in touch. I'm always happy to help.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

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@Eviledd1984@Prosaic

Miss White watched her unusual companions like one might look at curiosities in an exhibition. She nodded slightly at each introduction in turn, eyes dancing between Benjamin Zebrowski to Simon Hart as each spoke. At Simon's question, the dark dress shifted in the shadows as the slight frame shrugged slightly, the sing-song voice echoing down the street once more.

"On the contrary, Mister Blue. The night is still young. I intend to await the carriage, but if you are in a great hurry, then I'm sure you can set out on foot. Although I certainly would not envy anyone who walks those woods."

As if on cue, a chill wind came howling down the street, and even though they were still some distance from the first twisted trees of the Wilde Woods, all three of them could hear the trees creaking and moaning in the wind. Or at least, they all hoped that it was the wind.

Another noise broke the spell, the echo of hoof-beats, and the rattling of wheels on stone. The unlikely trio would have been forgiven for glancing towards the trees, expecting the Wildes carriage to emerge, but it is not from the woods that the carriage came. Instead, the sleek, black shape of an expensive carriage slipped from the shadows of the city at their backs. Two dark horses bore it forward, the hooded coachman driving them on, but as the carriage neared the edge of the forest, the coachman cried out, and the horses broke their stride, the carriage coming to a stop just a few paces from where Miss White, Simon and Benjamin still stood. For a beat, there was near silence, the only sound coming from the panting of the horses, steam spiralling into the cold air from their flanks, and then the carriage door swung open, and light spilled out onto the street.

For a moment, the trio could only make out a silhouette against the light, their eyes adjusting, but then they found themselves looking into a wide face, obscured by a mask bearing a long hooked beak, all in white. The mask stood in stark contrast to the shock of auburn hair on the man's head, and against the booming voice that echoed from the carriage.

"I say, a little late to be wandering the streets, isn't it? If I've said it once to Avery, I've said it a dozen times, Parker's too cautious on the road, takes too long to shuttle everyone to the house. You're all bound for Wilde Hall I take it? Well the more the merrier, I'm happy to give you all a ride there! Doctor Green, at your service."

The man leant back slightly, one large hand beckoning the three other guests forwards. The offer was certainly an enticing one, as was the warmth and light that radiated from within Doctor Green's carriage, but something caught Simon's attention, something that stopped him in his tracks. Miss White had been watching the two strangers with amusement, clearly not feeling threatened by either of the two men that had loomed out of the shadows, but ever since the carriage door had swung open, her shoulders had stiffened. It was slight, and something that could be easily missed, or perhaps brushed off as a coincidence, but it scratched at Simon. Miss White knew this Doctor, or at least knew of him, and judging by her reaction, it was not as a friend.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

In This Fine Town Of Arkham

A Night At Wilde Hall

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"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

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@Lady Selune@psych0pomp

The green eyes of Mister Violet watched the silent apology of Renee Bellerose, but he barely reacted. The brief moment of the mask slipping, the brief glimpse at something more behind the glowing smile, had passed. He took another long drag from his cigarette as his gaze danced between Renee and Moses Reaves as they talked. The smile didn't falter.

As his two new companions seemed to agree to his suggestion, Mister Violet nodded slightly, gesturing Moses forward as the other man went to lead the way.

"Please, be my guest. Let us hope that your faith shows us the way."

As Moses turned, and began to walk further along the path, Mister Violet took a final deep breath of the cigarette in his hand, before letting it fall to the ground, grinding it into the mud with one foot as he glanced across at Renee. There was a spark in his eye, but Renee still struggled to read the man. There was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on. He seemed friendly enough, and he made for a more willing conversationalist than the wary Deacon Grey, but something about his smile, or those green eyes, or the layer of mud on his shoes, something felt off. Out of place. Dangerous.

Renee's scrutiny was broken by Mister Violet's voice, and an arm offered in her direction.

"It would be an honour to ensure that you remain unsurprised, Mademoiselle. For now, I suggest we stay close to the good Deacon. They say there is safety in numbers after all."