Words: 88k+
Link: https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/not-quite-lovecraft.90677/
ONE Start
The world is a place full of wonders. Far larger than most imagine. With the Roaring 20's technology is hitting its stride. Cars are cheaper and wider spread, radios reach further and sound clearer, electric lighting is becoming more common, and silent movies are a big hit. Money is flowing and for a lot of people life is at its best. The world is still larger and far stranger than most people know however, and it is in one of those corners where the weird and unusual peers through that our story begins.
You are traveling on the SS Essex County to Rockport on April 12 1926. It won't be much longer before you finally reach the main port and can head to your final destination. The trip on the boat's been fairly smooth, if not entirely comfortable with the packed cargo and the rough weather. This evening's been relatively clear. You can make out the lighthouse on Beacon Island marking where the shallow rocky waters begin. You're looking forwards to reaching your destination, as you
[ ]are an antiques dealer with a bit of a shady past when it comes to fencing some goods who recently received a rather troubling letter from an old contact asking if you still deal in strange and exotic goods. George Cassidy isn't a bad sort, but he is foolish and prone to being a bit too open about his dealings, something you would think a smuggler of his age would have grown out of by this point. You're fairly sure that he's gotten into some sort of trouble again, and have decided to check it out to see if you can lend a hand
[ ]are an artist searching for inspiration for your next piece. You've traveled to the typical places artists draw muse from in Europe, the stately city of Rome, the beauty of Italy, Paris' streets of love. None of them quite struck you, and now you're looking for something different. Perhaps something a little more based in nature. Coastal towns sound rather quaint, and there's something about where the sea meets the land that draws you. You think you'll find your muse here
[ ]are a Special Agent for the Bureau of Investigation. You've been working on helping to crack down on smuggling rings with the ports along the coast. A fellow undercover agent, Warren Thomas, is stationed at Beacon Island to record the ships that pass through this area. He recently sent you a note to tell you he has discovered a new possible smuggling ring, but wants to pass on the information in person. Not a problem normally, if you could just shake the feeling that whenever you're near the water you're being watched
[ ]are a marine biologist with a trust granted to you researching the marine life along the east coast. You've been making trips up and along the coast while you work, and Rockport is your final stop. Your paper may not stun anyone, but you think you've managed to confirm a couple things that other biologists have been writing about in the area. You just need a bit more evidence
[ ]Write-In
The lighthouse went out. You stared at the spot you had just been watching, waiting for it to turn on again, but it doesn't. That thoroughly derails your musing about what's ahead. You continue to watch expecting the light to return, but it isn't long before things become more rocky. Without the light to orient with, the crew's struggling to keep going. It's only a few minutes later that the ship's keel is cracked on some underwater rocks and people are being loaded off into lifeboats.
Just to put an extra spark in the situation it's started to rain. The captain advises you to head to Beacon Island and try to contact the Coast Guard from there. Soaking wet and with your single piece of luggage held tight you find yourself heading out for a couple miserable hours of rowing towards where you last remember seeing the glow of the lighthouse before it disappeared.