[Tsuyu]

Often one finds himself staring out at the stars at night on particularly eeriely cloudless nights, wondering what might exist far beyond the vast black void outside of human comprehension. On planets tremendously different than our own, caressed by the lights of distant suns only visible as little spots of light to our curious human eyes. However, most of us are blissfully ignorant of the maddening truth; that cosmic horrors from beyond the stars are not found out in that void. They have been here on this earth since the beginning of time.
This blissful veil of ignorance was lifted from my mind during that fateful night when I put a bullet in the brain of my life-long friend and partner for the murder of whom I am now awaiting trial. I shot him, I admit to that. But I did not murder him. Or so I hope, for else I am truly mad...


To be continued when I can be arsed to write some more. Whatcha think?

[Tsuyu]

The identity of my supposed victim is shrouded in mystery, the authorities having been reluctant to release any details due to the circumstances concerning his passing as well as my part in it. Philip L. Howard was my childhood friend as well as business partner, as inseparable in adult life as we were when we were young.
We were both from two influential families in Arkham living sheltered lives in the care of hired staff moreso than our parents. Having found each other as a result of our individual quests for human emotion that we didn't get in our homes, Howard's great mind and imagination had us off on countless adventures exploring the dark Arkham countryside with it's many crumbling ruins where the lingering aura of decadent occult rituals seemed to fuel our imagination in an almost frightening manner.

[Zencidal]

Wow this had me soaked in like a book that couldn't be put down. Right more please?

[§ephiroxa§]

Originally Posted by Zencidal

Wow this had me soaked in like a book that couldn't be put down. Right more please?

...Agreed

[Tsuyu]

As the years went on the passage of time did little to dull our fascination of the occult. It opened up our eyes not only to the world of adults at large, but to the overhanging feeling of eerily wrongness surrounding the Arkham region. Such as the superstitious folk living deep within the darkest and oldest of New England forests keeping their blasphemous folklore and legends a well-kept secret.
As an outsider reaching these obscure regions was very difficulty. The dark New England forests seemed to have a life of their own; paths which one day was traveled could be mysteriously missing the next as one sought to find his way home. The trees on the known roads grew perilously close to the roadside and reached threateningly out over the road as if trying to forcefully keep outsiders and their prying eyes out. There were many incidents were people were traveling down these dark roads and being hit by branches they swear didn't see until it was too late. One incident involved a farmer that had his neck broken when riding his horse drawn carriage. The Arkham authorities suspected foul play because the farmer's old mare was incapable of reaching the speeds required for a branch to the face to carry such force, but in the end it was ruled an accident.

[Zencidal]

Another great job. XD keep it up

[Tsuyu]

The two of us enrolled at Miskatonic University at the age of twenty-one. Myself I lived on campus but Philip lived in his old family household which he had inherited when his parents had taken ill and died during one of their many business trips overseas. Not surprising he took it disturbingly well and had one not known the nature of his relationship with his parents one would've thought of him as cold and uncaring. He had kept all the servants whom with he had grown very close through out the years, a manservant named Charles Montgomery in particular. Hired by the Howard family when Philip was but a young boy, his duties in the household was to waiter upon the family and oversee the rest of the staff. With time he grew to connect with young Philip adopting the role of mentor and guardian, and all tough the Howard household were reluctant to admit it, father. A crafty man in his youth, he now carried his aged appearance well. Tall and lean only his wrinkled face and grayish white hair gave him away. His hair had started to recede years ago, and what was left he carried tied up in a ponytail. If one could catch a glimpse of his sharp blue eyes as they were constantly surveying the various furniture and decorations for any sort of discrepancy in the house, one would see that they were that of a man of great intellect and wisdom.

[Firis]

M-M-M-Maginificent!

[Tsuyu]

The Howard household had always been a source of fascination for me. The mansion and surrounding grounds were a very impressive sight when I first followed him home that warm summer day when we first met after having met each other as we had fled the boredom of some community gathering in the town square. My rather unimpressive middle-class home paled in comparison. The outside appearance of the household quickly faded away in my mind as I laid my eyes upon the curious objects that dotted the walls of the rooms, gathered by the Howard family on their various trips around the world - the heads of various stuffed animals; their faces twisted to appear as if they were leaping out of the walls to attack whoever beheld them. Below them hung the many rifles owned by Mr. Philips, the very weapons that slew them. As a young boy this scared me greatly, but to Philip they were commonplace. Perhaps it was this dulling of the grotesque that fed his imagination and compelled him to journey far away from the mansion grounds in search of crumbling ruins, ancient witch ritual sites and eerie glens deep in the woods were his imagination could run wild. But that which was the most intriguing feature of the mansion was the vast library; full of mysterious tomes in foreign languages. Some very rare volumes unwittingly thought of as curious souvenirs by Mrs. and Mr. Philip. One such tome was the nearly perfect edition of the dreaded Necronomicon, the blasphemous book of the dead written ages ago by the 'Mad Arab' Abdul Alhazred with the tome's unedited title Kitab al-Azif written in fine golden print across the cover that was placed on a satin cushion under a glass dome. We would often persuade Montgomery to read some of the mysterious tomes and to re-tell their wondrous tales to us for he had a vast knowledge of foreign languages. On one occasion we fetched the Necronomicon from within it's glass case and handed it to him. As we sat ourselves down before the chair he was sitting in, as we usually did when he was reading us stories, he nervously put the dreadful tome on the table beside him. A queer look came across his face and his eyes seemed to burrow their way deep inside of their sockets. Without saying a word he got up and returned that dreaded book to it's place and left the room. A few moments later we were still seated on the floor when Mr. Philips entered the room and removed the Necronomicon from under it's glass case and carried it away with him. It wasn't until many years later, when I entered Philip's study a few nights ago that I ever laid my eyes on that accursed book again.

[Tsuyu]

When the 'incident' happened we had been enrolled at the university for a year and a half. Howard had gone through his father and got us a bookstore set up in the center of the town. It didn't make us a lot of money mainly because of the rather exotic nature of our wares - the same type of rare volumes found in his vast family library. I felt rather ashamed at not having invested anything of my own in 'our' business but Howard simply put his hand on my shoulder and told me not to worry. Coming from such a privileged family I suspected had made him unable to correctly appreciate the value of money, and indeed he seemed to treat the store as yet another playful adventure. I didn't mind handling all the financial though as it gave me the feeling I was actually contributing. One book in particular caught our interest as we laid our eyes on it as we were unpacking our latest shipment late one night; "Arkham Cults and Legends" by Albert N. Wilmarth, a respected man at Miskatonic University. We sat ourselves down and at candlelight we read through it. Halfway through the volume we came upon something that instantly picked our interest as we read it, bringing us back to our childhood and those stories told to us;

"... and in these moonlit clearings in those deep forgotten parts of the woodlands the robed men and women who are no longer human gather around the altar where the ancient runes in a long forgotten language glow with a dreaded crimson light. Dark blasphemous rituals are performed and ancient chants are spoken; and from the long slumber their masters shall awaken once more to reach out from time and space to walk the earth in disguised form as they have done since the dawn of time..."

The next morning we went once again down familiar path leading us across the old and deserted McGillan farmhouse and fields, across the little stream that so many years ago seemed like a raging ocean when we first crossed it as mere children and up the trail slithering it's way into the old New England forest where the trees blocks out most of the sunlight and we felt as if we crossed into an otherworldly realm as we made our way deeper and deeper into the forest all those years ago.

[Firis]

*Claps* I would rep but you have like 2149 million already doncha? XD

[Tsuyu]

Well, Reputation is like candy - you can never have enough!

[Firis]

If it pleases your Highness.

[Tsuyu]

Haven't updated this thread in ages. Been busy with my new job and all. But by tomorrow evening or so I'd wager I'll have something new written up.

[Firis]

Okay then... Have fun