It is night, about 66F(18C) degrees, and there are clear skies. The mist is heaviest At Birch and Atlantic/span
There is a waning crescent moon.

Seraphina sets her hand upon Cadalie’s arm once she is sat on a chair beside the woman. “Where does it hurt, Miss Cadalie?”

With a soft laugh, Lupita says, “Sparring with Luka was a joy, even if he’s a sore winner like no one else.”

Buck nods as he finds his own seat, making sure there’s some room for everyone, “Buck Ransom.” he says to Lupita, “Sorry if we haven’t met yet. I’m an investigator. I look into things, so I tend to know people before they know me.”

“Oh- the fangs that punctured through my shoulder are near healed, dear.” Cadalie answers only mildly shivering. “It’s just the loss of blood.”

Nemi smiles and nods to someone and Lupita. “It’s lovely to meet you lupita, I’m Nemi, Nemi Ivorstead.” She states with a smile as she sits down.

Nemi smiles and nods to Alphonse and Lupita. “It’s lovely to meet you lupita, I’m Nemi, Nemi Ivorstead.” She states with a smile as she sits down.

Buck gives a tip of his hat to Lola, “Good to have you tonight, Miss Lovelace.”

“My little badass.” Alphonse praises Lupita proudly, slinging an arm over her shoulder. “Buck here helped out the pack quite a bit the last full moon.” Alphonse glances over to Lola and waves idly at her, a friendly smile on his face.

Lupita looks visibly releived as Buck gives his name, saying, “I was wondering how rude I was to not have any idea what your name was.”

Seraphina upnods to Alphonse. “Seraphina Hawk,” is greeted to him, and Lupita alike. But she turns her attention back to Cadalie, “I see. I may not be able to help much too much with that, but hopefully you will feel more hale soon. Pun wasn’t intended…”

Nemi says “Currently not geared enough to help but If I’m needed I can rush over.“

Buck gives a wry grin back at Alphonse, “Hey, it’s what I do. Keep the peace and make sure people get home safe and sound.” he waves Lupita off casually, “No big. I tend to already have half of someone’s life story before they meet me, so it’s not embarassing.”

Sending out a few texts as she comes into the place as though she had forgotten to do so outside, Lola smiles faintly at Buck then over to Alphonse, and then finally: “Hi Mister Thomas.. It’s nice to see you guys again. I’m sorry I was a little late,” she insists, lifting a hand to wave at Alphonse and saying: “Oh! You have a girlfriend now? Hi! I’m Lola, I’m friends with Al and his family,” she introduces herself to Lupita.

“Well!” Thomas says to the crowd here, nodding to Lola as she comes in. “Welcome to the first irregular section of our midnight book club. Algernon Kitt agreed to let us meet here tonight, though I imagine we might meet other places — Seraphina,” he says, nodding to Seraphina, “expressed some jealousy we weren’t hosting it at Inkwell! So the next one will be there.” He pauses. “We’re talking about the King in Yellow tonight. I don’t think we should take longer than about an hour; I know there is a late-night masquerade,” he says. “And I promise I won’t keep you.” He pauses. “If you don’t have a copy, Kitt has them for just the price of a photocopy.” He indicates a stack of folios between a couch and cabinet.

“I am Thomas Hale,” he says, by way of introduction. “Since this is a friendly affair, I thought we might all introduce ourselves and say why we are here tonight — what about tonight drew your interest?”

Cadalie stifles a cough and winches for her efforts. “Kknng.. Sera! Please- I had not noticed until you said..!”

Seraphina rolls her eyes upward the the ceiling, “Mister Hale does not speak true. I was not jealous, but I am happy to host within the Well-Worn pages.”

Constance walks in and sits down, smiling.

Buck gives a tip of his hat to Constance as she walks in, “Evening, Miss Lucida. Glad to have you.”

As Jenny walks in, Thomas has just introduced himself — Thomas Hale — and asked the participants to go around and introduce themselves.

“Yes, Lola.” Alphonse confirms to Lola with a blindingly bright smile. “Lupita has been perfect since we met.” Alphonse hums, and then glances down at his girlfriend. “I guess that brings me to why I decided to try coming out here tonight. I’m… not big on reading, but its something I want to know more about, now.”

Jenny walks on in stopping by the door “Hello? is this the book club?”

“Yes!” Thomas tells Jenny. “Come, sit.”

As Jenny walks in, Buck peers at her and fishes out his phone, “Hmm…” he murmurs as he checks some things, then looks up at her giving a tip of his hat, “I’m sorry, Miss. You have me at a rare loss. I’m Buck Ransom, good to meet you. Did you happen to come to town in the last day or two? You’re probably rather new.”

Jenny gives a nod to Buck “Oh. I am Jenny. I have been in the city last week, while I wait for the shop to fix my camper. Might stay.. the city is uh.. not what I thought it’d be. Way more than ‘Vegas but east-coast.” taking a seat

“Well, like I said but more people came in, I’m Lola! Lola Lovelace,” Lola says chipperly, one of those bubbly infections smiles on her face that dimples in at her cheeks just a touch. Her phone, even after those final texts, vibrates a few more times, but respectfully the blonde refrains from tapping out further messages. Instead she thumbs over her portion of the play, saying: “Buck likes to know everyone- he’s funny that way. Al I’m so happy for you, congratulations! And as for why I’m here, well.. I.. I like books? And I like Mister Thomas, so I decided to come out and enjoy both for a night!

Alphonse eyes Jenny thoughtfully as the woman walks in, peering at her with interest. He gestures an invite for Jenny to join him at a nearby chair, opposite Lupita who his arm is around.

Nemi smiles softly, humming as she waits a few and when it comes to her turn she states. “I’m Nemi Ivorstead- I was also quite hesitant recently- But a nice book club never hurt anyone and this city is about taking leaps of faith, so I made one. And thus I am here tonight.”

Buck waves to Gail as she walks in, “Over here, Miss Asper. Here’s the book club and there’s snacks!”

Jenny takes the offered seat by Alphonse getting a copy of the folio.

“I am Pontifex Cadalie.” Cadalie finds it in her voice to say. Something foul lingers in her lungs threatens the raise in her voice, and as such- she leaves it at that.

Seraphina shifts her weight in her seat, removing her hand from Cadalie’s own. “Seraphina Hawke. I am the assistant to Thomas Hale at the Endless Library. I do a bit more than that… handle affairs at Inkwell Coffee House… adventurer… dreamer.” She chuckles, wiggling her fingers to the growing mass of faces. “It’s a pleasure!” The copy she had snagged from the pile for ‘late-comers’ is put into her lap and the paper fidgetted with.

Buck gives a nod to Jenny as he punches something on his phone to take notes, “Aah, very good, Jenny. You have somewhere to stay while your camper is getting fixed? Or are they letting you stay in it at the mechanics? I know there’s some cheap hotel rooms at the Four Seasons.”

Gail smirks slightly to Buck when he waves her in, eyeing him for a moment and coming a bit closer with a hum, “Thank you, Buck… I hope I didn’t arrive too late. My car is out for service and this is such a long walk…”

Seraphina shakes her head to Gail. “Not at all, we’ve yet to begin.”

Nemi smiles softly. “Book club is quite popular.”

As quietly as one can, Preston slips his way into the space, dropping just straight into a chair that’s available, and settling down.

Once at least the least shy have introduced themselves, Thomas smiles, gesturing with the folio. “So,” he says. “The King in Yellow.” Even in a casual book club, he’s a little professorial. “The folio we all have purport to be Act I, Scene 2 of the play, but let’s start with the bigger picture.” He nods to Buck. “There are in fact snacks,” he says. “Big picture: who has heard of the King in Yellow?” he asks. “Who knows anything about what it is?” He glances at Gabriel, introducing himself: “Thomas Hale,” he says, sideways, as he nods to Preston in greeting.

If caught, Seraphina winks at Preston.

Gail takes a glance at the freshly purchased book in her palm, looking down to it and just opening the cover for a moment as she peers over to Seraphina, nodding slowly in reply, “Perfect…” Hearing Nemi’s voice, she smiles too the girl, gravitating toward her and getting caught in her orbit as she attempts and intends to take a seat just beside her, pulling out the chair a bit and sitting down.

Preston smiles at Seraphina, waving to her, Thomas and Lola.

Cadalie might be more likely to blink yellow for all of the conclusion she draws in her opening eyes.

Nemi shrugs in softly. “Nothing at all- There was a game covered ever very very very loosely on it but I never heard anything else after that of it, Never caught my interest before-” She states with a nod after.

Jenny nods over to Buck “Been in the hospital for most of the week. But staying at the hotel now.” she says before looking over to Thomas falling quiet as he speaks. Raising her hand politely as the question is asked to the group

Buck squints a little bit as he skims the folio he bought from the front entrance fellow, “Is this casual reading? To be honest, I haven’t read more than case files and dusty books in ages. Any historical context for the author that we should know?”

Gail watches Cadalie for a few moments, eyes dipping low and then upward before she makes Thomas the object of her focus. Tilting her chin upward, she speaks in her quiet and breathy voice as loudly as she can manage, perhaps overheard amongst the others, “I believe it’s a collect of short stories, isn’t it? I know little else besides…”

Gail clears her throat, “A collection, rather…”

Seraphina laughs, “I wouldn’t call this light reading, unless your name is Thomas Hale.” She opens the folio to flip through the pages much like Gail had earlier, and shakes her head to Buck.

Preston comes in completely unprepared to be reading things, he’s got no portfolio – or anything like that in his hands. Just him, and his brain, which isn’t all that much. There’s a chair near the back, and he’s mostly sitting alone.

Buck tips his at to Robert and Tamar, “Evening, folks. Good to see you all come by, Mr. Martin and Ms. Calwyn.”

Buck tips his at to Robert and Tamar, “Evening, folks. Good to see you all come by, Mr. Martin and Ms. Calwyn.” (repost for joining place)

“Good to be here, and good to see you too, Buck,” Robert answers Buck with an easy smile and drawing back one of the chairs to settle in, his hands folding into his lap. “I hope we’re not too late for the book discussion.”

Tamar pulls a copy of the folio out of her bag. Apparently she came prepared for this events. Following Robert inside and leaning on him a little they head deeper in and she smiles faintly at Buck. “Evening.”

Robert is happy to help Tamar with the weight of her body on the way in, helping ease her into a chair next to him.

Jenny looks over to someone looking confused. “Sure? My phone is 7100342.”

Jenny looks over to Alphonse looking confused. “Sure? My phone is 7100342.”

“Sure,” Thomas tells Buck. “Here’s some context. The King in Yellow is a play — first discussed in the 1890s in the fiction of Robert Chambers,” he says, nodding to Robert and Tamar as they come in. “Join us,” he says. “Please, introduce yourselves.” He returns to the topic. “It appears to be a fictional device in Chambers’ work,” he shares. “The first act of the play is eerie, quoted sometimes, but the second act of the play — in the short stories — drove men mad.” He lets that sit. “Except that isn’t exactly the end of the story,” he says. “There are records of the play being performed in Biringan around the same time, before the last of the Cities Between was destroyed, and I found a playbill suggesting that it was shown as late as 1985 in the Duchess Theater.” He pauses, his face looking not quite right. “Though I admit: records in New Haven back that far are sometimes… fuzzy.” He pauses. “We don’t know,” he concludes. “Is the play shown in Biringan and here the same play Chambers wrote about?” he asks. “Or is it that some playwright thought it a fun thing to riff on?”

Constance says “Until today, just me that I was aware of.“

Message sent, Alphonse gives Jenny a polite smile, and waves to everyone as he prepares to make his way out.

Preston sneaks his chair more forward into the crowd of people, hoping there’s room somewhere behind Lola, and just peering over her shoulder at the folio – he’s definitely going to read over her shoulder.

Tamar settles down near Buck with Robert alongside and gives Cadalie a little wave before turning her attention on Thomas. “I am Tamar. Hello,” she murmurs by way of introduction before opening her folio of the play.

Looking much like she has no idea what The King in Yellow is, Lola remains silent for the most part- turning her head up to smile warmly at Preston when he sits behind her, then allowing her eyes to scan over Gabriel curiously once he steps in. The smile he gets is just as warm and delighted, but with a bit of extra spice, like a layered dusting of cinnamon just for him. Eventually her eyes turn back to Thomas as he speaks, listening patiently to the history of the reading material and occasionally darting her eyes down to her pages, thumbing over the long-dried ink and holding it up enough that the peeper over her shoulder can get a good look at what is written.

Buck raises an eyebrow as the two leave before the book club even starts, but he shrugs and looks over the food offerings as he mentions to Thomas offhandedly, “Mr. Hale, are you certain we should be reading through this given the historical context of the Cities in-between and a probably ominous omen you could be tempting fate with? Still, I suppose if you have wood to knock on and avoid ladders, we’re probably fine.”

Cadalie’s hand shivers up to wave on back at Tamar slowly from left to right.

Constance snickers. “Well, that’s why I’m here so heavily armed,” she comments to Buck. “I’ve never met a gribbly I couldn’t blast with a shotgun.”

Robert inclines his head to Buck. “And as the man said, I’m Robert Martin.” He says, politely, introducing himself, his expression intrigued – though somewhat wary at Thomas’s words.

There is plenty of wood to knock on and, for Thomas, Seraphina does so, at Buck’s request. “It will be fiiiiiiiine,” she tells him, stretching out that last word in a playfully sarcastic tone. She smiles pretty-as-pie to Thomas when she does so.

Gail crosses one leg over the other, her book held backward in her palms as she scans over the cover and then inspects the spine. She draws her gaze up to Buck with a faint smirk of her lips as her blue eyes slide to Thomas and then back down to her copy. She tilts the book to the side until it yields to the weight of its own cover and then divides the pages with her fingers, flattening them out and inspecting the first few pages while others discuss and mingle.

Jenny stares down at her phone. She looks nervous before she puts the folio back in “Sorry, I really need to handle this. I will be back if I can.” and does an irish goodbye

Thomas smiles at Buck. “No,” he admits. “Of course not. The central figure of the play is — who can guess?” he asks. “But how will we know the truth, know if it is real or if it is fiction, if we do not read the text?” He looks around, chuckling to Seraphina. “Who has read to folio and can guess who the central figure in the play may be?”

Constance says “I made a Venetian oath to get something out of it, don’t need a chip as long as you end up fulfilling your side of the deal. I am an ENTHUSIAST, for violence, you see.“

Robert reaches for the left-behind folio, plucking it up to leaf through it.

Buck smirks as he skimmed through it quickly and then flips to the cover and says, “The obvious answer is ‘The King in Yellow’ is the central figure? After all it’s named after him. Usually what’s on the box is what’s in it.”

Tamar glances around the room uncertainly then half lifts her hand a little, “It seems to me to be the strange in yellow who arrives late?” she offers quietly.

“Mmm. Stranger.” Cadalie repeats after Tamar, still moving down her copy. “It is the opportunity to be most poetic.”

Gail tuts quietly to Buck, “It’s a book of short stories… there is likely more than one central character in the whole text…”

Nemi nods softly as she listens, smiling softly as she keeps her copy closed.

Preston is very unprepared for reading, even though Lola is providing him reading material. A frown forms on his face at something or the other, and quietly he stands, and slips out.

Buck nods to Cadalie, “True, true Sister Cadalie. It’s probably like Edgar Allen Poe’s collection where there’s a number of horrors present and it may be a thin thread of the one cataloging these supernatural things that is the driving narrative.”

Suddenly enraptured by the text upon her page, Lola reads and reads and reads until she’s halfway done with her script, eyes wide, little giggles bubbling up, and then a soft little gasp at the beginning that has her cheeks turning slightly red. “Is Aldones sleeping with both sisters…?” she asks quietly, so deep under her breath that she seems to be talking to her self with furrowed brows. She looks back up then, peeking at the rest of the club and then clearing her throat apologetically. “Sorry.. I uhm…” she murrs sweetly.

Nemi hears nothing as she hums softly and looks over the top page again and again… and again.

“He is,” Thomas tells Tamar. “I haven’t yet located any scenes from Act II.” Does that make it more likely it is real? Less likely? “But the… secondary sources… report that the Stranger, unmasked, is the Yellow King.” He looks at Gail. “But it also reports that the Yellow King wears no mask: that what the lovers, Cassilda and Camilla and Aldones believe is a ‘pallid mask’ is instead his face.” He pauses. “It is that revelation which is said to lead a reader to madness, though for my part I feel quite sane.” He chuckles. “Does anyone feel strange?” he asks.

Robert rummages gently. “This act seems like a stand-alone story. It hits the typical horror elements of uncertainty and a strange situation, amplifying discomfort and dissonance. The people all know each other, and yet they act like foreigners, their masks keeping them anonymous. The whole thing feels simultaneously ritualistic and predetermined, and confused, and it’s in that deliberate dissonance of thought the horror elements arise. Since, discomfort and dissonance are the baser elements of all horror. Steeling yourself against it is just a matter of identification and dissection.”

Nemi raises a hand in question. “Theory- What if it is not the act of seeing act two itself, yet the act of seeing or reading act one and then seeing or reading act two.” She poses, a very good question indeed. “yet such would be extremely volatile and dangerous to test of course.”

Tamar frowns a little, dropping her head to read over the section again. She reads quite slowly, still dragging a fingertip along the line like a child might. “Is that why the word pallid is all in capitals?” she eventually asks, glancing back up to Robert. “The other masks are written normally.”

Gail closes her eyes with a soft smile as she listens to all of the competing voices, clearing her throat and replying quietly, “I, for one, am feeling quite ordinary.”

“I think so,” Thomas tells Tamar. “For my part, I think it’s interesting that the King — and the Stranger — wear yellow, but the mask is described as pallid. The word makes me think of death,” he says. “Has anyone read the Masque of the Read Death?” he wonders. “It’s Edgar Allen Poe, a classic.”

Robert beams at Tamar, giving a slow nod at her. “Exactly. If you’ll notice, the grammar and formatting of the lines and frames of speech change, too, without altering the narrative tempo or the impression of how they speak, leading the mind to become confused – thinking they talk differently, even though it’s the same tempo, presented in conflicting format. If they’re sneaky, they’ll also change small details – the lengths and dimensions of a room, or the colors.”

Robert says “For example, ‘the sky opens like a wound’. And yet it’s clearly originally -implied- to be dark in the very first line… ‘the twin moons’ reflection’ … and yet then they later imply it’s sunset.“

Glancing around as he narrows his eyes slightly, Buck murmurs to Thomas as he watches everyone observently, “I skimmed through the text and didn’t see anything that looked like it was some level of infernal or demonic script. Usually something involving outsiders or deep ones will have incomprehensible gibberish somewhere written that’ll drive you to madness because it simultaneously has too many consonants and too many vowels at the same time.” he glances back down at the text and back up, not paying much attention to it with a shrug, “I’ve read Poe in passing, but only because it was a copycat Case. Cask of Amontillado. Perp was burying people in basements behind brick walls.”

Nemi looks over to Gail and nods firmly in agreement. “Quite normal myself- Which consists of constantly knowing that I know nothing.” she states with a weak smile as she admits that.

Gail snickers to Nemi quietly.

“If I have, I don’t recall,” Lola answers Thomas obliviously, haven taken a bit of quiet time to read the entirety of the play before deeming the club itself worthy of her undivided attention. Not quite so harsh, no, she’s more… Easily distracted- but who comes to a book club without reading the material on topic? She chews thoughtfully upon her lower lip then, saying: “I really don’t like Aldones. I think… He’s having sex with both sisters plus other girls, and at the same time he’s mad and jealous that Camilla is getting attention from another man… But.. Maybe I’m reading too deep. It just doesn’t seem fair-” she rambles, slapping the script down against her lap.

Nemi clears her throat. “As suggested. The plays usually would always do act two right after act one- As such. What if it is not watching act two in itself but a combined longer thing such as reading act one AND act two. Erasing or destroying records and copies of one of the two acts is much easier of course, though why act two specifically would be a very good question that could defunct such theory.” She states with a firm nod. “Back then things were never fair to women, then again what is fairness but a concept we imagined to justify what might and might happen,a nd right and wrong?” She poses to Lola with a smile.

“I think you hit on something,” Thomas compliments Robert. “This is set in dreaming Carcosa, a city on the shores of Lake Hati — a place that is supposed to straddle this world and some other one.” He pauses. “It’s hard for me to not draw parallels between Carcosa and our own City Between,” he says. “As for Poe — in the Masque, Prince Prospero holds a grand ball for all the nobles of the city whole those outside die of plague,” he says. “But death himself has come to the ball, masked. I wonder if his masque was pallid, too.” Turning to Lola, “Do you think Aldones is the culprit, seducing them both? Or do you think he’s the prize in some sisterly tug of war? Why do you make him out to be the villain?”

It is likely that it is the latter.” Seraphina says, “If we are focusing on the aspect of the sisters.” But the offer is low, as her eyes re-read the short act spread out before her in her hands.

Tamar nods her head thoughtfully at Thomas and Robert’s reply. She brings up a hand to scritch at an itch under the bandage around her head then winces and lets it drop. As the comments fly about mentioning this word and that line, she goes back to trying to find them in the text. “Does the stranger stop time when he arrives?” she wonders, “It says that a guest arrives then halts…the music stops. Is it like a movie where time freezes for everyone else?”

“Because he literally says that if she doesn’t come home fast enough after spending time with a complete stranger, she may as well not come home at all!” Lola huffs to Thomas, her cheeks filling with air and turning slightly red. “Even if they are fighting over him, he should act more like a prize to be won than a burden to be scraped off at one’s earliest convenience. I know.. Some women don’t understand that they can just /leave/ and never come back, but this just feels silly. Maybe Camilla is about to be kidnapped or murdered, and all he cares about it- HMPH!!” A bit of a hot take and a ramble to go with it, Lola’s arms crossing under her chest in frustration. “I hope Camilla gets whatever makes her happy. She was very demure about walking with him, too! I bet she’s a good girl.”

Robert rummages for the folio again, looking through the quote. “I think it’s left open to interpretation, on purpose.” The man concludes. “Thomas mentioned about Poe… this whole thing might be an allegory. The Yellow King is Plague, and Aldones isn’t a man – he represents the wealth of the nobility. It’s why he lays with both women, because in truth, their true lust isn’t a person, it’s power.”

Robert says “And, at the time, it mattered naught – people didn’t understand diseases. So you died.“

“I wonder,” Thomas tells Tamar. “Magic is about liminal things,” he says. “It’s most powerful at boundaries — at sunset and sunrise, on beaches and at crossroads,” he explains. “Magic is the thing that -transgresses-,” he says. “That crosses boundaries. And so the Stranger’s arrival, at a shore: it wouldn’t seem surprising to me, at least, that there is something mystical.”

Robert adds, belatedly, murmuring, “The Mask may be it’s own Person, too, separate from The Stranger. Two pieces to a whole.”

Scanning the text, Buck speaks up, “So what’s interesting historically, is that the villa is Camilla’s. In that day and age, for a woman to own the property she would have to be either very insanely rich, inherited from her parents, or have been widowed. This Aldones is perhaps a legal loophole that either sister is using to get married so that they can own the property, and this rube knows that he’s being fought over, as he stands to become Lord of the Manor, to have his choice of either sister.”

Nemi nods softly in agreement with Lola. “HE likely see’s the stranger as nothing better than a commoner, but she may not even be attracted to him in a sexual or intimate sense, it might just be her curiosity to find out WHOM he is. Aldones is simply an ass whom wishes for control but even at the slight thought about it- he wants nothing to do at all with whom he loses control over.” She states with a soft nod. “That would be what today calls an abusive relationship.” She states with a soft nod again. “As suggested its the test itself, keywords spoken for ones mind in an order only the text does. Be it act two as a whole or also act one and then act two.” She states with a nod.

Thomas nods sharply to Nemi, agreeing. “Wanting to -know- is more seductive than any lover’s caress” he says. “Who wouldn’t suffer even darkest indignity for knowledge?”

Tamar smiles briefly at Thomas, nodding her head just a little and looking thoughtful. “Like that moment just before we fall asleep? When we are not asleep but not awake either.” Her gaze slides to Robert and Buck and then to the other, more unfamiliar faces as she listens to the discussion of the sisters. She soaks it all up like a sponge.

Buck adds, “The stranger may be her way out of this mess of a legal system of her day and age, to reject what would possibly be her family’s pick for her arranged marriage and rather to go with the Stranger.”

Thomas tells Tamar, “That’s the moment we are most vulnerable to possession, for just that reason.”

Gail tilts her head a bit as she inspects the text, frowning slightly and humming. Eyeing Thomas and the others speaking, she raises her voice as high as she can manage, but her words don’t quite rise above the sound of the discussion. Only bits and pieces are properly audible, “I do find it odd … … … … find her in Carcosa … … … death. Is … … … afterlife? … … … a purgatory … … … … her resting place?”

Nemi nods in agreement with a smile to Thomas. “I always want to know of course. But I’m afraid of the unknown as well, yet that lies more in the sense of what goes bump in the dark, what might lie in the pitch black closet as a wee babe in a crib, or what creeks in the forest.” She states softly with a nod. “Knowledge is always a prospect only fools wish to never have or have too much of.” She states. “Only those who are not know when to properly be satisfied and turn back before it is too late.”

Nemi nods in agreement with a smile to Thomas. “I always want to know of course. But I’m afraid of the unknown as well, yet that lies more in the sense of what goes bump in the dark, what might lie in the pitch black closet as a wee babe in a crib, or what creeks in the forest.” She states softly with a nod. “Knowledge is always a prospect only fools wish to never have or have too much of.” She states. “Only those who do not know when to properly be satisfied and turn back before it is too late.” (fix).

“I don’t know,” Thomas tells Gail. “But I wonder if this is Carcosa, sometimes.” He gestures. “Our city teeters between how many worlds?” he says. “It’s sleepless, but it is also dreaming: when outsiders come, they revel, but when they leave, they wake, and only tangled wisps remain.” A beat. “Are we not the Dreaming City, really? And in turn — if we are, does a Stranger come?”

There is a faint chill in the room, and the smell of something floral with an undertone of rot.

“The edge of a dream, or purgatory. The two are exchangeable, I think. When we want to discuss all that is the in-between.” Seraphina/span murmurs.

Nemi stops… flinching as she sniffs the air softly and hums…

“Well, I hope Aldones falls down the stairs or something on his way back to Carcosa,” Lola declares, throwing one hand up in the air in utter disbelief at the situation. “And breaks a pinky finger or something… Or at least knocks it out of joint,” the woman decides, sighing softly and then leaning back in her chair, crossing one slender leg over the other in a fashion that slightly pulls up at the hem of her skirt. She looks ready to complain again when something gives her pause, and she looks around the room curiously.

Constance glares around, fingers twitching as she reaches for her firearm at her side, placing it at the ready in her lap as something infringes on the woman’s sense of security, but not so much that she seems like she has to move and do something about it.

Thomas nods to Seraphina, agreeing, before he chuckles to Lola.

Gail snickers silently, eyeing Thomas and replying in return.

“Any other thoughts?” Thomas asks, still perhaps meditating on the Stranger and his pallid mask. “I said we’d run for an hour, and we’re there, but I don’t want to cut the conversation off mid-thought,” he says. “Also — this is a folio, I think, the rewards reading and re-reading.”

A slight raising of the eyebrow goes from Buck to Constance as he glances around, and then helps himself to the refreshments, having established at most of the city’s parties that he’s mostly there for the free food.

Robert wrinkles his nose up. But he politely doesn’t say anything as he notices. He laughs at Lola’s words. “Well, Given what I know about this place… there’s a good chance that if the stranger shows up, they’ll be pulled apart for spare parts, if they come with the mists.” He murmurs.

Tamar rereads a few sections more then finally looks up to Thomas. “What does the stranger mean when he says that he has always been among them?” she asks softly.

Nemi slots her copy down into her lap as she looks to the others and hums softly.

Gail leans her head to the side as she sits back in her chair, occasionally eyeing some of the more opinionated individuals in the room before looking back down to the except in her hands, flipping back and forth through the scant pages slowly.

“If he’s death, the answer is obvious, I suppose,” Thomas tells Tamar. “But for me… I think he is something different.” He pauses. “I think he is an agent of something else. Change, perhaps. The uncanny… And I think there are eldritch things hidden among all of us. There are secret faces, masked, who watch, and wait, and wait…” He shakes his head. “And the thing I wish to know,” he says with a nod to Nemi, “is what they wait for. Perhaps that’s the answer that drives men mad.”

“What sense do you get from it,” Seraphina asks Tamar. “There have been numerous options. Maybe it is greed and lust? As …” She glances to Robert, “Mister Martin?… mentioned. Power? Simply made tangible for those in attendance.” She shrugs. “But, and I shouldn’t really admit this I guess, being Mister Hale’s assistant, tonight was my first reading.” She smiles, avoiding a glance to Thomas for the time being. She begins to stand, and sets the folio into her bag. There is a long stretch, long legs tensing as she slips onto her toes.

“I think the man in the yellow clothes is a Fae,” Lola decides to share as the club meeting comes to a close and folks begin to share their final thoughts. “I think he’s something ancient that cannot be replicated, and I also think he’s dangerous. I once new a man in a yellow coat- he made people kill one another for fun, trapping them in mazes. I wonder if this is the same spectre,” she inquires of Thomas, Nemi, and Robert specifically, who seem to be the main ones indulging her little tyrade of complaints. “Which is, maybe, another reason that I’m mad that Aldones’ response is jealousy….

“There was a case like this I read about with The Bureau where there was a cursed book and everyone who read it started talking in this Babel sort of language. Turns out it was an accounting ledger from that very time that had absorbed some of that divine curse into it. Sometimes things are a lot deeper than they seem on the surface, and some things we aren’t meant to fuck with.” Buck mentions as he closes the folio again and peers at the cover with a shrug.

Gabriel quietly slips away after receiving a series of texts on his phone.

Robert gently suggests, “I implied that Aldones was power, and the King was Disease. But, I think it’s important to the story, like all art, it is the usage of a medium to establish communication. And sometimes, all that communication happens inside one’s own head,” He argues, his feet and philosophy grounding in the banality of the mundane.

Tamar chews thoughtfully on the corner of her lip after listening to Thomas and then casting a look over to Seraphina. “I think he is dangerous, that much is clear from how everyone reacts when he arrives, right? And that the lake is creepy and dangerous. But it makes me sad that Cassilda and Alphonse just… let her go. Especially when she is reluctant at first. I do not think they are a good sister and friend.”

Tamar meant Aldones, not Alphonse.

“Well,” Thomas says, standing. “I think that’s probably a good place for us to stop,” he says. “Thank you all for coming, though,” he says. “I know it ran a little long.”

Cadalie stirs. As pallid as a mask with red spots where her fingers had pressed hard against her temple and cheek. “..I’m off to get medical.. A pleasure y’all.” She rasps, willing herself into the mission of getting from point A to B with clouded eyes and ignoring all else.

Nemi nods and hums softly with a smile. “I do say this is quite a fair book club, I had not expected so many to arrive at all.” She states with a soft smile.

Giving a shrug as he’s mostly discarded the light reading for the cake and coffee, Buck mentions to Gail, “There’s a whole lot of really good books at The Endless Library. A number of the more peculiar than this one. You should stop by some time and talk to Mr. Hale and Ms. Hawkins about them.”

Nemi says “Oh, do walk safe!“

Seraphina nods to Robert, “Yes, of course. Sorry. It is very late.”

“Anyone who has thoughts about the play and wants to discuss it sometime,” Thomas tells everyone. “My number is 710-0196, and I’m someone on MyHaven. Or just come by the Endless Library. I love talking about books.”

“Hawke,” Seraphina corrects Buck, lightly.

Robert waves it off with a smile at Seraphina. “It happens! We had a big crowd, lots of talking. Easy enough to get distracted. Thank you for the book club, Thomas. It’s very interesting, as is the endless library. I shall have to visit more often.”

Buck nods to Seraphina, “That’s right, I misspoke. I was distracted by this wonderful cake.”

“Come by,” Thomas tells Robert. “Happy to give a tour.”

Gail nods slowly to Buck with a lid of her eyes and a faint smile, “Oh I know. I live only a short walk away from it. From time to time I peer down that big hole in the middle while enjoying a light read.” Stepping up and out of her chair, she takes a deep breath, laying a hand on Nemi with a light smile, “I need to depart, hun… but I’ll see you around.”

Thomas starts to get ready to leave, leaving the coffee and cake behind for those who wish to still mingle.

Nemi nods and smiles warmly. “Do walk safe dear.” She says softly to Gail.

Tamar closes her folio and takes a moment to add the offered number to her phone. “Thank you,” she says to Thomas. “This was very interesting.”

Gail snickers, “You’re startin’ to talk like me, Nemi…”

Nemi smiles softly.

Lola stands, brushing her hands over her skirt and laying it down against her thighs. Her smile is faint and feminine as she gives a look of farewell to all of those around. “I’m not sure if the masquerade is my cup of tea,” she admits, “but for any of you going, please have fun and be safe- I think it’s thematic. Don’t follow any strangers to a lake, okay?”

“Oh Gail, let me know if you need anything. My number is 710-0250. I don’t believe you have a way to reach me.” Buck says as he starts to get up from his chair, giving a tip of his hat to all around.

“It just came from the oven, when Mister Hale bought it.” Seraphina remarks to Buck, a nod and a warm smile to Robert. “Please do come by sometime.” She says, to the group as a whole, then, “I can also be reached for the Library at seven ten, zero one nine seven.”

Gail nods slightly to Buck with a lid of her eyes and a long, analytical gaze, “I’ll be sure to keep it on speeddial.”

Nemi turns to Buck. “Oh question- Do you know the way to the masque theater…?”

Nemi says “or the address at the least…?“

Robert fills in, “My own number’s -0138,” He leaves off the typical area code, straightening on up. “Did you want the folios back? Or?” He holds aloft his own.

“They’re yours!” Thomas tells Robert. “Just the cost of photocopying, so it’s just fine.”

Buck says “Nah, you can have mine back, probably cursed.“

Nemi says “I wish not to keep it honestly- Just in case.“

Thomas chuckles, heading out at last.