Play@YSDC

Friday March 14th, 1930 5.35pm.
Oakwood House, Cushing, Mass.

Bar a detour to pick up the letter of introduction from Dr Morris, they made good time out to the coast. As William drove up the long tree-lined drive, the sun had finally broken through the grey clouds and bathed the large colonial mansion in early evening sunshine (even though occasional spots of rain still landed on the windscreen).

Oakwood House was a two storey house painted bright white and sat in a large green plot that ran to the cliff edge. Off to the left appeared to be a block of garages, with a paddock and stables beyond. In the distance could be heard the sound of a tractor and it seemed a farmer was manure-spreading, if the smell that wafted in on the breeze was anything to go by. Other than that, it was peaceful, with only the distant sound of the sea to be heard.

"Let's go knock on the door," says William. Letter in hand, he approaches the house.

William’s knock was answered after a few moments by a young, dark-haired woman in a nurse’s uniform. She looked surprised to have visitors at that time of the day.

”Can I help you?” she asked.

"Good evening," says William. "My associates and I are here to see Miss Emily Livingstone. We were referred by Dr. Morris." He shows her the letter of introduction.

The nurse read the letter with a look of concentration, then said, ”We wouldn’t normally allow visitors at this time of day as it disturbs the guests, but let me ask Dr Roy. Please wait here.” She indicated some bench seats on the porch and closed the door.

Through the glass panes, she could be seen walking over to a door on the right hand side of the vestibule, where she knocked, before letting herself in.

William sits on a bench seat and watches through the window while he waits.

"How do you suppose we should start the visit off? We probably shouldn't immediately start throwing accusations, that might stir up too much of a disturbance." Lawrence states as he takes a seat on one of the benches, looking out over the scenic environs.

"We should start by delivering James's letter to Emily," says William. "Once she reads that, she may have a change of heart."

"Agreed," Alex says. "If her doctor gives us any trouble I will explain that I am a detective, but I'd rather not have to. Ms. Livingstone is extremely unstable, and I don't want to set her off. hopefully once she has read the letter we can gently ask her a few questions while she is pacified."

Through the window, William saw the nurse emerge from the doorway, in conversation with a man in a white coat. They spoke for a few moments, then she headed off down the corridor while the man approached the door. William could see he was a man around 40 years of age, with dark hair and a tanned complexion.

He unlocked the door and stepped outside. ”Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he said with a bow of his head. “My name is Doctor Roy. I understand you wish to speak to one of our guests. Is that correct?”

"That's right," says William. "We'd like to speak to Miss Emily Livingstone please. Dr. Morris referred us."

”So I understand,” replied Dr Roy. “But you must understand that Emily is here for a reason. Her melancholia was quite acute when she first arrived but she is making good progress. I would not want your visit to undo the progress she has made while she has been with us.”

The doctor looked at the three of them in turn, to check that the importance of what he was saying was appreciated. “May I ask therefore, what it is you wish to see Emily about, so I can assess whether it is appropriate for you to see her?”

"We're here regarding a recent number of poisonings that have occurred, which we think Ms. Livingstone may know something about; I'm sure our detective friend over here could probably explain more than I can" Lawrence explains earnestly; surely, with this being an official police investigation, there was no need to lie about why they were here.
"On a more personal note, we've come to deliver a letter from her late boyfriend; it's very important that we get it to her, I'm sure you understand."

Alex nods gravely. "Indeed. Ms. Livingstone is a person of interest in this investigation based on the particular victims targeted." He flashes his badge. "We would appreciate your cooperation, sir."

"I think it will do her good to read the letter," adds William. "The one he wrote to his father really helped him come to terms with his loss."

”Recent poisonings?” said Dr Roy, somewhat sceptically. “Emily hasn’t left the house since she arrived. We don’t allow our guests to go out unaccompanied in any event until they are ready to leave us.” He glanced at Alex’s badge. ”Nevertheless... ...”

He opened the door and indicated that they should step inside. Once in the lobby, he locked the door behind them and pocketed the key, before heading down a corridor that lead further into the building. As he walked, Dr Roy said, “I believe that our guests are painting this evening. They’ll be in the sun room. The view over the sea is most stimulating from there.”

He walked on in silence for a few few moments more, then said, ”Forgive me for asking, but how is possible for Emily to have been involved in these poisonings?”

"We're still trying to determine that. As I've said, she's a person of interest, mainly because the two victims targeted so far are individuals she bears some animosity towards. She's also been contacted by an individual who was involved in several kidnapping cases across state lines-- bearing this all together, we need to speak to her to determine what she knows."

"Who is paying for Ms. Livingstone's care? I was given to understand she was of limited means, and it seems like Oakwood would be out of her financial reach."

Dr Roy paused and looked at Alex. ”Some of my work here is still at an experimental stage,” he explained. “It is funded by a number of universities who are researching alternative approaches to treating those who suffer from melancholia and other conditions. That pays for the guests stay here and in return, I share my observations with them. It is all quite above board, I assure you.” He sounded defensive, as if he had rehearsed this argument before.

"Are your guests able to send and receive mail?" asks William.

Alex nods, but inwardly he's a bit suspicious of the doctor's defensiveness. He examines him closely to see if he's hiding something.

Psychology 60%,0

"And by any chance, did Ms. Livingstone bring any sort of book with her?" Lawrence adds, intent on finding out if that strange book was still in Emily's possession; he presumed it held the formula for creating that strange poison, and if she didn't have the book, she must have memorized said formula.

Alex studied the doctor but he had no reason to suspect that he was anything other than someone trying to do the best for his patients.

”We encourage our guests to address the problems they were having. For some, that involves writing, for some it is poetry, art or sculpture. I believe that it is important for these things to be examined and discussed, unlike some of my colleagues, who would just lock such people away,” Dr Roy explained, somewhat testily.

“It has taken some time for my more enlightened methods to gain traction, so please understand how important this is. Traditionalists are just waiting for me to fail so they can carry on with incarcerating these people instead of genuinely seeking to help them. Any setback could have serious repercussions for a large number of people. Hopefully, what we do here could be the start of a new era in the treatment of mental illnesses.”

He paused, looked down and straightened his coat. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have much invested in this. I hope you will understand.”

He turned back and continued to walk along the corridor. “As for letters, we do allow our guests to send and receive mail, although it is vetted. We wouldn’t want anything sent that was inappropriate. And yes, I believe Emily brought a journal of some description with her. She carries it with most of the time, although I have no idea what she writes in it - we ask our guests only to share that sort of thing when they feel ready to do so.”

"Has anyone else come to visit Miss Livingstone or sent her letters?" asks William.

OOC,Psychology roll (55% skill) about [b]Dr. Roy[/b]: 0

"Of course." Alex nods. He can't see any reason the Dr. wouldn't be on the level. For a moment he had gotten paranoid and wondered if Emily had had inside help. Still, Dr. Roy stood to lose a good deal if Emily was found to have committed these crimes. They likely couldn't count on much assistance from him. In a way Alex almost hoped they were wrong; he could sympathize with the doctor's new treatment methods. But he had to pursue the truth.

He continues to silently follow.

"I understand the letters are looked through, but have you ever had any trouble with patients sneaking letters out?" Lawrence asks; surely, he thought, if all mail coming in and out was searched, then either Emily had been able to sneak the poisoned letters out of the facility, or someone on the inside was letting them through.

OOC,William has no reason to doubt what Dr Roy is telling them.

”Letters? None that I can recall,” said Dr Roy as he walked. “We keep a record so I can check, if you wish, but here we are.” He stopped by a pair of double doors. They were half-glazed so they could see into the room beyond. ”This is the sun room,” Dr Roy explained. ”As you can see, we use this room to encourage our guests to explore the arts. The views over the coast are quite something and we have the beginnings of a nice collection,” he said proudly.

In the room, were half a dozen guests, some sitting and sketching on their knee, others, like Emily were standing at an easel. A tutor stood in the middle of the room directing the class and two nurses stood talking by the large window that overlooked the sea. As they looked on, Emily glanced up from her painting and saw the four men watching through the glass. A puzzled look crossed her face - she must have recognised William and Lawrence from their visit to her in Amesbury but momentarily couldn’t place them - but then it dawned on her and she smiled warmly and waved to them.

"Miss Livingstone," says Wiliam, smiling back. He holds out James's letter to her. "James wrote this letter for you."

William tries to open the door and enter the room.

William hears something.

OOC,Listen roll (68% skill) on the other side of the door: 0

William could have sworn he heard a man’s voice but when Dr Roy pushed the door open, all he could hear was the sound of the female tutor talking to the guests. ”... the use of colours will affect the tone of your painting and how the viewer sees it...” She paused, hearing the door creak and looked over her shoulder, her dark fringe falling across her face.

”Miss Dufresne? May we join you?” asked Dr Roy politely.

Mutely, Miss Dufresne nodded, and turned back to the guests. “Please show our visitors your work,” she said, indicating that the guests should stand. The guests stood, their movements suddenly jerky - almost like automaton, and as they turned their works to face the men in the doorway, a familiar symbol was etched on each one, as if sketched in a poisonous green ink...

Actions,please.

"These are very good," says William. "What was the inspiration for them?"

Lawrence is noticeably put-off by the use of the strange symbol in the patients' paintings; if only he revisited the university, maybe then he'd know what they meant.
"Could we speak with Ms. Livingstone in private for a moment? I hate to interrupt, but it's very important." Lawrence calmly speaks with authority he does not actually have.

Thankfully, Alex does have the authority. He flashes his badge and looks at Emily, inspired by William's clever ploy. "Hello Ms. Livingstone. James wanted us to give you something."

As they stepped over the threshold and into the room, the light changed perceptibly. It grew darker and the early evening sunshine that had streamed through the windows was occluded by thick clouds that started to roll in from off the sea.

As one, the guests began to chant mechanically. “Gla’aki ymg' hafh nyth'drn! H' tharanak wgah'nagl l' cahf! Iä! Iä! Gla’aki! Iä! Iä!” The papers they held dropped to the floor where they instantly started to grow a network of thick green tendrils that emerged from the green ink of the symbols, writhing and twisting together to create a larger version of the symbol on the floor.

As Dr Roy gasped in shock, Miss Dufresne stepped forward into the centre of the symbol, and looked up towards the men at the door. The air shimmered - around her was blackness with some vague hints of sharp angles - and her face twitched and warped. She tried to speak! “Help m...” but her face twisted - now more mannish, with an Adam’s apple and a stronger jaw -and she was cut off by a gruff voice all too familiar to Lawrence and William - “Farewell, gentlemen! You won’t stop me this time!”

OOC,One action each, please.

William takes out his cigarette lighter and uses it to try to set the green tendrils on fire.

Alex's police training kicks in, and he pulls out his gun, aiming it at the figure in the symbol. "Freeze, Mr. Brophy! You are under arrest!"

"Just shoot him! Shoot him now!" Lawrence practically screams at Detective Reynolds, equal parts horrified and infuriated by his hated enemy somehow being alive. Not waiting for the detective to acquiesce to his command and lacking a gun himself, Lawrence rushes the revived William Brophy with a singular purpose: to strike him hard enough to knock him out of the circle of the symbol.

Fist/Punch 60%,0

Damage (if applicable) 1d3+1d4,1 + 2

OOC,Dufresne/Brophy Punch - 0

Dufresne/Brophy brought her/his arm up sharply and blocked Lawrence’s swing. ”Too late!” she/he snapped, and stepped backwards through the shimmering maw, disappearing into the darkness beyond, the wide-eyed terror on Miss Dufresne’s face the last thing Lawrence saw before the blackness claimed them...

As if the strings of a marionette were cut, the guests arranged around the pattern on the floor slumped. One swayed, then fell in a faint and the black maw flickered, like a bulb whose power was fading...

"Do we follow?" asks William.

Alex attempts to rush forward into the maw, reasoning that Brophy had a hostage and he could not in good conscience allow him to escape with her..

OOC:   Hate to ask this but I imagine Alex at least needs to make a san check?

William hurries after Alex.

Lawrence, unwilling to try and fully place his body into something he does not understand in any way, shape, or form, tries to gradually push his hand inside of the maw as a way of testing the waters before taking the plunge.

Lawrence reached out his hand and pushed at the black maw that hung in the air. There was a slight resistance but he pushed on through and he saw his hand, then his forearm disappear from view. His arm felt ice cold, colder even than plunging his arm into a snowdrift to rescue snow-trapped animals back on the farm, and swirling frost particles started to form on his sleeve.

One of the guests stood facing him screamed and dropped to the floor. The maw twisted and visibly shrank and Lawrence knew it was now or never if he was to follow his friends.

Lawrence,SAN check, please.

Wherever William, Alex, and Brophy had gone, Lawrence would be joining them. He steps forth into the maw, mentally preparing himself for what would be waiting within it.

SAN 68,0

All,1 SAN Loss for following Brophy. Can I have a Luck roll from everyone?

As William, Alex and then Lawrence disappeared from view, Emily opened her mouth and screamed. Shocked into action, the nurses and Dr Roy rushed to help their guests, whose states ranged from dribbling catatonia to outright hysterics.

As more nursing staff ran into the room, Dr Roy barked brisk instructions to return the guests to their room, before quickly walking back to his office. Picking up the phone, he asked the operator to put him through to the Arkham Police Department. When the call was connected and he heard a voice at the other end of the line, he swallowed and said as calmly as he could, ”This is Dr Roy of Oakwood House. I don’t really know how to explain this, but your Detective Reynolds has just disappeared before my very eyes......”

OOC Luck 65,0

OOC,I think it goes without saying, but it look like things are about to get [i]very[/i] interesting.

William is (barely) lucky.

OOC,Luck roll (65% stat) going through the maw: 0

0

OOC:   computer crashed and am trying to fix it please forgive the sparse post.

The journey seemed to feel both instantaneous and as if time itself might never end. Strength-sucking cold gnawed at the marrow in their bones, causing them to contort in agony. They felt themselves emerge from whatever state they were in - although emerge couldn’t quite describe the suddenness of the change - to hear the sound of wood on wood, a muttered female curse and the banging of a door, all in the most pitch darkness with not the slightest chink of light.

Both Lawrence and William were fortunate enough to keep their footing, although Lawrence had felt Dufresne/Brophy break free in those first disorienting moments. Alex had been less fortunate, as he emerged he tripped on something in the darkness and went down with a clatter!

Breaking the unceasing gloom, there was the sound of steps, then a door latch, and then candlelight flickered around a door as it was pushed open. ”Who’s there?” called out a stern voice. “I’ve sent for the Constable, so give yourself up!” Accompanying the call was the worrying sound of dual hammers being cocked... ...

OOC,No problem- thanks for letting me know. Alex - take one point of damage as a result of your mishap.

William slowly raises his hands. "The police are already here, sir," he says, indicating Alex with a glance.

"Alex Reynolds, detective with the Arkham police," Alex replies, rising to his feet and struggling for his badge. "We are in the midst of pursuing a fugitive from justice."

Lawrence immediately raises his hands into the air, not wanting to get blasted full of holes. One question resounded through his mind:
"Where the hell are we?
The farmer asks, a bit shaken from his "amazing" journey through god-knows-where.

The door continued to swing open and the candlelight caused the shadow of the gun to stretch ominously across the panelled wall opposite, as if searching them out. Then there a ‘click’ and the lights in the room came on.

Blinking against the sudden brightness, the sight that greeted them may have been comical, were it not for the long, double-barrelled shotgun pointing in their direction. Holding it was an elderly man, dressed in a nightshirt with a crown of wispy white hair standing up in all directions. They stared at each other for a moment and then a young woman bustled in the room. With long blonde hair tied back and a dressing gown over pyjamas, she looked like she’d just got out of bed.

”What are you doing up, Dad?” she said to the old man. “You should be in bed. Come along...” She reached out for the shotgun and at that point realised they were not alone. She looked up, not frightened, or wary, just slightly exasperated if anything.

“I thought you had all finished for the night?” she said.

"Well, we haven't, so it would be much appreciated if you could give us a few more minutes." Lawrence answers, making an effort to look like he has any idea of what he's talking about. He takes a subtle glance around the room, still wondering where he and his comrades have been sent by that strange maw.

The walls were covered in dark wooden panelling from floor to ceiling, except for a large stone fireplace in the middle of one wall. A rough wooden chandelier hung from the ceiling, with four candle-shaped bulbs which lit the room. In the middle of the room was a large wooden table, surrounded by heavy dining chairs.

William checks his watch to see how much time it says has passed.

William checked his watch. The second hand swept up to the hour mark, making it 5.46pm.

Alex is not one for bluffing. He removes his badge and shows it to the newcomers. "Detective Alex Reynolds with the Arkham police. Have either of you seen a Mr. Brophy?"

"Or a woman, a Miss Dufresne?" asks William, describing her.

”Have you been drinking?!” the young woman replied with snorting laugh. “Now be off with you while I put my dad to bed.” The accent sounded unusual, but it was definitely English.

"Gentlemen, let's head on out of here. I have some very important things to discuss once we get outside." Lawrence announces, approaching whatever exit from the building he could find, gesturing for Alex and William to follow; there was not much point in sticking around and causing suspicion, especially when nobody has any idea of where they are.

Frowning, Alex nonetheless follows.

William also follows Alex outside.