[color=662d91][hr][hr][h1][b][i][center]Eugene Esposito[/center][/i][/b][/h1][/color]

The sudden shift in mood caused the temperature to drop. What Mister Violet said held many implications. Questions were running through Eugene’s mind. Did he know the purpose for their reopening? Does he personally know the host? Was Mrs. Copper a fucking cop? Too many queries too little answers. He’d have to be even more vigilant now. 

Everyone in the carriage was studying each other. Sizing up potential allies or enemies. Thankfully he was good at keeping his exterior relaxed and unassuming, and it seemed as though the others do too. Eugene stayed quiet as Mrs. Copper and Mr. Violet conversed, opting instead to look out the window like Red. 

He watched as the the cobblestone streets turned to soil and the man-made architecture turned into nature’s own. In an attempt to change the mood he spoke up.[color=662d91]“The Wilde Woods. Ancient, old, and unforgiving. That’s what the rumors say at least. Do you think the woods were named after the family or the family after the woods?”[/color]

[color=orange]“I’d image the Wildes themselves were first,”[/color] Mrs. Copper said, though she was not sure. [color=orange]“If they drew their name from their surroundings, we might very well be attending Thornbank Hall, would we not?”[/color] She looked to Mr. Violet, attempting to gauge any answer he might offer. 

Mister Violet himself seemed lost in thought at Eugene’s query, his eyes moving to meet Mrs. Copper’s after she answers. "Very true, Mrs Copper. It sounds as if you know something of what lies ahead of us at least." He gestures slightly towards the darkness beyond the carriage windows, before his attention seemed to shift, his gaze settling on the silent figure of Mister Red. "What about the most reserved member of our party? Have you graced Wilde Hall before, Mister Red?"

The man was so quiet that Eugene actually forgot that he was with them. He barely reacted to to Mister Violet’s question that it seemed like he didn’t hear it at all, but a single word escapes his mouth. “No.”

Mister Violet, being the friendly and outgoing person he was, paid no heed and continued pressing. "Come now, old boy. A party is a social event, why not warm up with new friends?" 

"Not. Interested." The answer was accompanied by a glare as Mister Red was facing Mister Violet now, eyes blazing. For a moment, the two men faced each other, the tension thick in the air, before he turned back to the window. 

Mister Violet appeared to be genuinely taken aback, glancing across at Mrs Copper and Genie. Looking for reassurance perhaps? Or maybe simply understanding.

[color=orange]"Perhaps Mr. Red is not interested in our direct company, Mr. Violet.”[/color] She spoke calmly,[color=orange]“But he is interested in our chatter. I noticed his covert glances while we discussed the Wildes."[/color] Debora stroked the edge of her coat, [color=orange]"One must wonder what rumor concerning our hosts has reached all the way to Texas."[/color]

Mister Red's gaze flashed across to Debora as she mentioned his name, and there was something dangerous in those eyes. Something like an animal, backed into a corner. As she continued, he turned fully towards her, leaning forwards. His voice was low when he spoke, almost a growl. "You don't know anything about me, lady." 

Before Debora had a chance to respond, Mister Violet was quick to interject. "Now steady on, old boy. I think you should show Mrs. Copper a little more respect..." Mister Violets hand seemed to move in slow motion, reaching forwards to rest on Mister Red's shoulder.

As soon as it touched, it was like a spark. Mister Red moved quickly, like a snake that had been coiled, lashing out. He turned, knocking Mister Violet's hand away, catching the other man's wrist in an iron grip. His voice wasn't low now, it was harsh and loud, the words practically spat out in Mister Violet's face. "Touch me again, and you lose your hand." 

Hearing the answers of his companions confirmed something. Mrs. Copper knew of the place and its history whereas Mr. Violet seemed to have an idea of the reason for its reopening and an idea of the party’s agenda. Before he could speak up, Mr. Red suddenly lashed out. Mrs. Copper had asked him a question which seemed to spark some agitation and when Mr. Violet tried to calm him down, Mr. Red suddenly became violent. Grabbing the jolly man’s wrist with a threat of injury soon after. [color=662d91]“Now now, take it easy.” Eugene said, trying to defuse the situation. “We’re here for a party not a fight.”[/color]

As if to back up his words, the carriage stopped.

A sharp cry came from beyond the carriage, and the carriage slowed to a halt. For a moment, there was nothing. Still and silent. Mister Red's grip on Mister Violet's wrist fell away, the Texan looking around, looking for a cause, an explanation, but nothing came. Almost as one, all four of the guests in the carriage moved to the window, and looked out into the night.

It was quickly apparent why they had drawn to a halt. The heavy, iron fence cut through the twisted undergrowth of the forest around them, stretching away into the darkness in both directions. The trees had wound themselves around the metal, so that both came together to form a thick barrier, as if nature and man had come together to seal off whatever lay beyond. Peeking outside, Eugene could see a large iron fence with a single name written on it. Wilde. They had arrived. The sound of the gates opening naturally eased the tension as curiosity overtook anger. Slowly the carriage moved as if feeding its passengers to a hungry beast.

Before any of them could speak, a low grinding broke the silence, and the gates slowly began to swung open, opening like the maw of some great beast. 

Once the opening was wide enough, there was the crack of reins, and the carriage lurched forward again. As they entered, Eugene felt the atmosphere change. It wasn’t the hot, blood boiling moment they had a few seconds ago. This felt more…cold. As if a weight was suddenly placed upon his shoulders that just got heavier and heavier. Pulling him in, telling him that it was time for a well deserved rest. Despite the obvious chill in the air, Eugene could feel a cold sweat forming. 

 As they moved through the gates, dark figures could be made out in the gloom, barely visible before the grinding rang out again, and the gates began to close behind them, sealing the path back to Arkham. As if to tell them that there was no more escape. The air around them was different. It was ancient, stale. As if they were treading on a place where no man was allowed to. Eugene had felt this many times. Whenever he was called to do a scoop on gang murders, violence, interviews. Swallowing his saliva he turned to look at Mr. Violet.

Mister Red crossed himself, his lips moving in silent prayer, but Mister Violet, as ever, did what he could to put on a more jovial appearance. "Clearly our hosts have a taste for the theatrical."

[color=662d91]“Well, it certainly seems so.”[/color] Eugene said with a smile. [color=662d91]“After all, what’s a party without a little drama.”[/color]

[color=orange]“If you value drama at your parties, Genie, tonight should not disappoint,”[/color] Mrs Copper murmured, a subtle warning.

As if on cue, the road they were travelling on turned sharply, and the trees that had been looming around them since they first entered the Wilde Woods fell away. Somehow, the emptiness was worse, for in the shadows of the night, there was an expanse of true darkness. Black, as black as ink, the waters of Thornbank Lake were eerily still, stretching away into the gloom. Silence tightened it's steely grip on the carriage once again. 

Passing through the large iron gates, Eugene found his naturally drawn to the Thornbank Lake. Under the darkened sky the waters of the lake seemed to stretch endlessly, like a void where a sleeping beast lay. He recalled the dreams he had, floating aimlessly among the pitch black. The sight and memory caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. 

He found himself sitting upright, breath stuck in his throat. Upon stretching his back he remembered that he was not alone. Never alone. The painting on his skin was a constant reminder of that and he took a deep breath.

[i]Dreams are just dreams. I can’t make a report using just dreams. [/i]

He had little time to shake off the uneasiness before the road bent as the eerie darkness of the path and the lake slowly shifted to warmer tones, Wilde Hall came into view. Despite its grandeur, Eugene couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. He had expected gargoyles and looming towers and buildings overrun with thick roots or vines with loud organ music playing. 

Light and sound began drift over from the Manor ahead. Still, it seemed like evidence of life and civilization were being muted by the lake. It was a sight for sore eyes. 

Mister Violet broke the silence once again. “Perhaps we are in for an enjoyable night after all."

Mrs. Copper drew her coat tightly around herself. [color=orange]“I hope they’ve a good vintage waiting.”
[/color]

Muffled music could be heard and several other carriages releasing figures could be seen. This is it. The Wilde Halls. A speck of humanity in such a feral and primal location. He looked around the carriage and readied himself. Making sure his mask was on, Eugene waited for the doors of their transport to open.