Play@YSDC

Saturday, February 7th, 1931 9.30am
The home of William Preston, Arkham

The rattle of the letterbox caught William’s attention as he sat drinking his morning coffee. Walking through to the hallway, he saw a handful of letters on the mat in front of the door. Picking them up, he skimmed through them as he made his way back to his coffee. One caught his attention, not least because it was merely addressed to ‘Mr Willm Preston, Arkham’. In a different hand, one he recognised as Frank Young from the post office, his address had been written in a neat copperplate.

Slitting open the envelope, he pulled out a letter on rough paper, accompanied by a newspaper cutting. The letter said,

“Dear Mr. Preston,

I hope my leter finds you well.

I saw dis in the newspaper a couple o days ago. Wasn’t dis man a frend o yors?

Best wishes,

Oscar.”

The picture was instantly familiar and William was transported back to that night in Louisiana when they had tracked down William and Robert Brophy, the night they had been attacked and taken away to be sacrificed in some unholy ritual.

They had escaped, but one man had been left behind, the man whose face was now glowering back from the artist’s impression. It was Emily Livingstone’s brother - George Livingstone!

Saturday, February 7th, 1931 9.30am
The Gillman Farm, Arkham

“Uncle Lawrence! Uncle Lawrence!” The cry made him look up from feeding the animals to see his young niece Sophia, calling him. She waved a buff-coloured envelope that he recognised as coming from the press-cutting service he’d been employing these last few months.

The results had been mixed to date. He’d asked for anything to do with anyone called Brophy, anything to do with snakes or any unusual cults in the area, but it seemed that the service had struggled to get their heads around what he wanted as he’d had stories about people being bitten by snakes, and stories about revivalist ministers but nothing what he’d really wanted.

Amidst this month’s snake bite stories and the miracle cures, one cutting stood out. Dated just the week previously, the face was instantly recognisable. He’d last seen it at that hotel where they’d tracked down those infernal Brophys but he hadn’t seen it again after they’d been attacked by those rival cultists who wanted to sacrifice them to their damned snake god.

On the cutting about a mystery man, he saw the familiar face of Emily Livingstone’s brother - George Livingstone!

Nothing to report for you guys, as the start of the story links back to events which Lawrence and William were involved in. It’s just an ordinary Saturday morning so feel free to describe what you’re doing.

William is pleased to hear from Oscar, who had helped them escape from Louisiana, as it means the man is still alive, and that Georgie is apparently still alive too after all this time, though he worries about getting dragged back into the madness they had barely survived the first time. The first thing he does is call Lawrence, who had been there with them.

As Lawrence stared at the cutting, the telephone rang in the house. He heard his mama answer the call, then heard her footsteps on the porch.

”Lawrence, there’s a William Preston on the line. Says he needs to speak with you,” she said.

Lawrence stares and stares at the scrap of paper, seemingly entranced by it; for a brief second, he is returned to Louisiana. He smells gunpowder, blood, and gasoline; he hears the chirping insects in the swamp drowned out by screams as James Fraser, a man he once called a friend, burns to death; and he watches himself beat William Brophy to death in a muddy ditch.

Lawrence is jolted back to reality by his mother's calling; hearing from William would normally be a welcome occurence, but the arrival of the news from Louisiana made for an unusual and uncomfortable coincidence.
"Alright, Mama, I'll tend to it. He's just a friend of mine." Lawrence offhandedly states as he hurriedly walks past his mother to answer the phone, holding the clipping and envelope it came in in a white-knuckle grip. Lawrence speaks over the phone in a hushed voice, glancing around to make sure none of his family are eavesdropping on him:
"Hello, William, it's good to hear from you again. I finally got a lead from that clipping service- do you remember that Livingstone girl's brother, by any chance? I think they found him..."

Alex is feeling fairly good this morning. His therapy had been going well, and his therapist seems to think he is making improvement. He's even managed to sleep some nights without bad dreams,a first since his adventures through time. Alex wishes he could tell the man the truth of the nightmares he had experienced, but he knows that would be an easy way into a sanitarium. So he continues to couch his traumas in mundane explanations. It helped that his biggest issue presently was feeling guilt over the death of Lawrence's brother. Monster or not, the main cause of his guilt was that he hadn't shot fast enough, and the therapist was able to help him process that.

He has the day off and is thinking he'll head back to see Winscott's neighbor, the kindly old woman who had offered him some light. He had spoken to her a few times since the events of that day. Him dropping by clearly made her happy, and it was a simple kindness he could offer, really. It also helped wash him in pleasant mundanity, which was a feeling he had grown to increasingly appreciate.

For now he sips his coffee and reads the morning paper. Ah, Amelia Earhart got married.

"I just got a letter from Oscar," says William. "I had feeling you might have too, but I guess you heard about it another way. He enclosed a clipping about Georgie. We should contact the sheriff in Baton Rouge and let him know who he is."

Slamming the store door behind her, Ivy stomps back to her apartment. Paper shopping bag jammed under an arm, her feet pounds the sidewalk while her clenched jaws grumble about lackadaisical store clerks and their inability to read perfectly legible shopping lists.

“Shaky handwriting indeed!” she huffs, glaring at anyone daring to intrude into her eyeline.

Eventually she reaches her apartment, stuffing her frugal provisions into cupboards. She switches on the radio, but, finding the normally relaxing music grating, switches it back off again.

Sighing, she plonks herself into a chair, grabbing a magazine and then flinging it down seconds later. She drums her fingers on the reading table, muttering to herself. Maybe Alex is free? Perhaps she should call him?

“Oh stop it you foolish woman!” she snaps. “Acting like a simpering schoolgirl!”

"I didn't get a letter, so I don't know if we got the same clipping, but mine said that George looked like he'd been held captive. I think we're due for another trip, William..." Lawrence replies, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice; even after witnessing the face of death itself, the events of the last trip to Louisiana still weighed heavily on the young farmer's mind. However, his hatred for the forces that had arguably ruined his life now outweighed his fear of engaging them; even as he stared at the wall in the asylum, Lawrence had vowed to himself that he would crush that cult under his heel like the serpents they worshipped, or die trying. Either way, he would be free.
"Do you think we should tell Detective Reynolds about this? He's seen the elephant, just like us. He could be a lot of help for this kind of thing."

"Yes, we should probably talk to him," says William. "Do you want to call him, or should I?"

"Maybe it's best you do it," Lawrence suggests, audibly shooing away an eavesdropping nephew. "I'm with family right now, and I still have some farm work I need to finish. If you can get the Detective's help, I say that we should meet up at your house around noon. Certainly less people running around there than at mine..."

"All right," says William. "I'll give him a call. Anything else you want to talk about before I go?"

"Should I tell Ms. Livingstone about this? You know how badly she took it when she lost James, and that became a whole problem itself later..." Lawrence trails off for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating something. "I don't know. If you asked me before we got into all this stuff, I'd say she has a right to know what happened to her brother; these days, I guess that I'd say that ignorance is bliss. That still doesn't make me feel good about leaving her in the dark."

"You're right, she does have a right to know," says William. "Do you want to tell her while I contact Alex?"

"I'll deliver the news to her, then; here's hoping she takes it better than last time." Says Lawrence. "Goodbye, and good luck."

OK, so we have William calling the Sheriff and Lawrence is going to pay a visit to Emily Livingstone.

Are you involving Alex and Ivy at this stage?

I believe William will be calling Alex. I don't think Lawrence knows Ivy quite well enough to pull her into mythos business, but he'll bring it up later if nobody else does.

Yes, I'm calling Alex first. After that, I plan to call the Sheriff.

Lawrence: go here to visit Emily.

After he gets off the phone with Lawrence, William gives Alex a call.

Just in case anyone hasn’t seen the cutting:

I can’t remember if anyone told Ivy what happened in Louisiana, but if they did, a bout of insanity and a kick in the head from a horse has probably dislodged the information.

Is there anything you wish to take with you?

Ivy will pack a valise with some changes of clothes and toiletries. After a minute’s consideration, she also puts in her nightstick and pops her newly-purchased pistol - an .22 short - into her handbag.

If possible, Alex will see about purchasing a shotgun to take with him down south.

They’re commonplace enough that buying one won’t present any problems.

Looking at my skills I'll stick with my hand gun, I'd rather get a near confirmed hit. Though if allowed I'll buy some extra ammo for it.

I'll be bringing my pistol, shotgun, and ammo for them both.

OOC, Clothes and all that mundane travel stuff, naturally. As for weapons, he'll bring along Jerry's pistol and a .30-06 rifle (an M1903 Springfield, or something like that), and spare ammunition for both. Anything else can probably wait until we get a better idea of what we may be dealing with.

Just waiting for Ivy’s reaction to being called ‘the wife’…

Weapons, ammo, clothes, etc. all ok. Anything else before you go?

Maiden aunt?

(Runs away! )

(Ivy wallops Keeper with handbag)

I'd also like to bring some antidotes to snake venom.

OOC,

The game now shifts from Lovecraftien horror to overwrought romance.

Mulford’s presumably?

OOC,
Mulford's sounds good to me!

Silver Priest wrote: ↑Sat Mar 04, 2023 8:14 pm The game now shifts from Lovecraftien horror to overwrought romance.

Now it's the monsters' turn to roll Sanity!

And the Keeper’s!

The game’s certainly taken a turn I didn’t predict. Time to brush up on my Mills & Boon!