[h2][b][i][color=008000][center]In This Fine Town Of Arkham[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h2] [h3][b][i][color=008000][center]A Night At Wilde Hall[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h3] [hr] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/WsDVXgm/richard-wright-cthulhu-the-old-house.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [center][b]"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown"[/b] - [i]H. P. Lovecraft[/i][/center] [hr] [h3][b][i][center][color=ed1c24]Five Hours Till Midnight[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h3] [hr] [center][@Archangel89][/center] Mister White oozes the kind of privilege and arrogance that [b]Jayce Brennaman[/b] is all too familiar with, and as the heir sits back in the plush leather of the automobile, absent-mindedly watching the darkness of the Wilde Woods as they race through the forest, he almost feels at home. After all, evening balls, even masquerade balls, are all just parts of life for the heir to a business empire, and yet, there is something dark, something unsettling, that Jayce just can't shake, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself with his conversation with Mister White. For Mister White's part, the other man seems all too happy to talk of business, of Boston, of grand theatres, lavish ballrooms, and the women who inhabit them. If Mister White feels any sense of unease, if he notices the way the coarse branches of the Wilde Woods seem to reach for the automobile like clutching hands, then he conceals it better than Jayce can hope to. If Jayce was hoping to find some reassurance from the other occupant of the motorcar, the broad frame of the driver, Adams, then he is out of luck. Adams shares none of the friendly manner that Mister White seems blessed with, and he is silent throughout their journey through the Wilde Woods. Not only silent. Still. At first, Jayce thinks nothing of it, passing it off as the man simply focussing on the winding road ahead, but as he casts more glances towards the front of the motorcar, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. Other than the movements strictly necessary to keep the automobile on the road, Adamas is totally, unnervingly, still. [b]"Ah, finally."[/b] Mister White's voice snapped Jayce's attention away from the unmoving frame of Adams, and as he followed Mister White's gaze, he had his first sight of Wilde Hall. The house was impressive, but then, you could expect little else from a family whose very name was carved into Arkham's foundations, but it was a far cry from the gothic castle that Jayce's imagination had conjured up. In fact, Wilde Hall appeared to be entirely welcoming. A handful of other coaches and automobiles were on the road ahead of them, making their own way towards the light spilling forth from the dozens of windows that made up Wilde Hall's face, and Jayce felt their own motorcar slow. Jayce allowed himself a smile as he took in the scene before him, the jazz music carrying on the air, the light against the darkness, but the sense of unease didn't leave him. It didn't leave him, and he could feel it, at the back of his mind, tugging. For a few brief moments, he tried to ignore it, tried to push it down, but eventually, he couldn't bear to fight it any longer. Inch by inch, his gaze was dragged away from Wilde Hall, until it settled on the darkness. Thornbank Lake. Some part of Jayce knew that it was Thornbank Lake that he would see. Some part of him knew because he had seen it before, countless times, in his dreams. Ever since the Wilde Ball invitation had arrived at his door, dreams had haunted Jayce, and so often, those dreams had drawn him to the icy waters of the lake that he now saw through the automobile's window. The smile had long faded from Jayce's face, and he couldn't look away. The darkness. The depths... [b]"Are you ready, friend?"[/b] It was like an echo, a half-remembered memory of another life, but Jayce couldn't look away. It was almost like it was calling to him, like the waters knew him, knew his name. [b]"I said, are you ready?"[/b] Mister White's hand gripping his shoulder finally pulled Jayce back from the edge, and he turned, wildly, until he found himself looking into the dark eyes of the other man. Was there concern in those eyes, or simply curiosity? Jayce didn't have long enough to decide, the face already moving away. With an almost theatrical flourish, Mister White opened the motorcar door, and Jayce realised that they had arrived at Wilde Hall proper, the main doorway just a few metres beyond the confines of the motorcar. Jayce looked back to Mister White, and did what he could to fit the mark of the charming socialite, opening his mouth to speak.