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#ars
lennuieternel · 5 hours ago
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dandibuja · 8 hours ago
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ARCHIVIST
Fine.
So… so, I know a, a few… but what are they, these fourteen?
GERARD
[Recites] “Robert Smirke divided the beings into fourteen distinct Powers, each comprising a variety of smaller terrors, some direct and practical, and some more abstract.”
ARCHIVIST
R-r-right. I know The Eye. Fear of being watched, right?
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GERARD
Being watched, being followed, having your deepest secrets exposed. Needing to know, even if your discoveries might destroy you. The feeling that something, somewhere, is letting you suffer, just so it can watch.
ARCHIVIST
Is… is that me? Is… is that what I do?
GERARD
You’re the Archivist, you tell me.
ARCHIVIST
Ah…
Ah.
The Spiral is the fear of madness, right? That worry that your world isn’t right, th-that your mind is lying to you?
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GERARD
Yeah, pretty much.
ARCHIVIST
And The End is fear of death.
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GERARD
Simple, but always there.
ARCHIVIST
The Stranger is the, the unknown. The uncanny.
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GERARD
That kind of creeping sense that something’s not right. That guy you saw that might be following you, might mean you harm.
ARCHIVIST
Isolation.
GERARD
Smirke called it The Lonely. The feeling that you’re just… alone. Maybe there’s no-one else there at all, maybe you just can’t connect.
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ARCHIVIST
Then there’s… burning, the, uh, the Lightless Flame.
GERARD
The Desolation. Fear of pain, fear of loss, fear of unthinking or cruel destruction.
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ARCHIVIST
Does it… watch over, um, war as, as well? Or is, is that The End?
GERARD
I mean, I think they both get a lot out of war, but you’re thinking of The Slaughter. It’s not cruel, exactly, or unstoppable like The End. It’s just pure violence, not targeted or premeditated, just… unpredictable violence. And you don’t know when, or if it’s even coming. Sometimes it’s aggressive, like a frenzied killer, but sometimes it’s calm, like an army firing shells into a village. The Slaughter’s not that common in peace but, well, you know, there’s always a war somewhere.
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ARCHIVIST
Right.
And, and then th-there’s, uh… Vertigo. The fear of, the fear of falling.
GERARD
The Vast. Vertigo, agoraphobia, the dread of deep water, of our own insignificance before the universe.
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ARCHIVIST
And on the other side, claustrophobia?
GERARD
The Buried. Small spaces, crushing, you can’t breathe. You’re at the centre of everything, and it all pushes down on you. If the Vast is like losing yourself in too much space, the Buried is being trapped without enough.
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ARCHIVIST
Darkness?
GERARD
The Dark, yeah. That’s an old one, and one of the deepest. I mean, who isn’t a little bit afraid of the dark? Of what might be in it?
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ARCHIVIST
Yeah. And there, um… I think Filth, it’s, it’s disease, but also insects?
GERARD
The Corruption. Ooh, it’s a nasty one, that one. Just… disgust. Rot, decay, infection. That feeling of your skin crawling or itching, being touched by something that might burrow inside you. Swarming and hollowing you out. Leaving you full of holes.
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ARCHIVIST
Yeah. Not spiders, though?
GERARD
No. They belong to The Web.
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ARCHIVIST
Which is… spiders a-and control. Your, your will not being your own.
GERARD
Yeah. Being manipulated or puppeted. The worry you’re caught in a trap you can’t see.
ARCHIVIST
Yes.
What about meat? How does that work?
GERARD
Ah, The Flesh?
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ARCHIVIST
Yeah, I-I mean, are we really so afraid of being… eaten? Of our bodies being all twisted up, i-i-is that… I mean, some people sure, but… how is it one of the fourteen great fears?
GERARD
What? You think people are so special it’s only our fear that counts?
ARCHIVIST
Wh– No…
GERARD
Everything feels afraid sometimes. Sure, maybe it’s not as complicated or… existential as our fear, but it’s real. And there’s, what, twenty billion chickens in the world? A few billion pigs, cows… How many of them are dying of old age? All that terror, it has to go somewhere. So it does.
ARCHIVIST
And when something formed out of an animalistic fear of the slaughterhouse reaches out to, to people…
GERARD
Things get weird. Yeah. It gets mixed all up with human neuroses: bodies, gore, y’know, that nagging worry that deep down we’re just electrified meat squeezing air at each other.
ARCHIVIST
Good lord.
GERARD
I think it’s quite new. Only just beginning its, uh, ascendance when Smirke labelled it. Before that there just weren’t enough animals for it to be a fear of its own. Back then I think the only animal fear was The Hunt.
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ARCHIVIST
The Hunt is also animals?
GERARD
Yeah. Been a long time since humans had any proper sense of our place on the food chain. I mean, we haven’t been ‘prey’ for, what, thousands of years?
ARCHIVIST
But, I mean, hunting, killing each other. That-That’s just how wild animals work. I-I-It’s… natural.
GERARD
So’s death. But we’re still afraid of it.
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pretendingnottopanic · 8 hours ago
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Thanks to everyone who acts responsibly. While the economy grew in the last 15 years, energy usage was flat, and pollution was down. Nicely done!
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alchemiasaturnalis · a day ago
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I recollect the skies were amber that day; speaking to a Dominion whom taught me the way of the sword.  ❛ As King, not only should you guide, you must also fight for our sake. ❜ My virginal hands could not comprehend the need to shed blood, however, he coaches me with a ruffle of my hair——an affection, I confess, do not favor so well.  He went by the name Neinhalt: a burly man of divine order amongst the hierarchy, devising virtue onto the flowering angels whom devoted their lives toward the troth.  He smiles onto me and promises goodwill; yet, for some reason, deep inside... albeit the warmth he provided in his tutelage; I were frightened of him. ❛ In due time, you will flesh out into a fine patriarch, my Liege. ❜ Still young; fresh to the throne by the age eighteen——perhaps it were fear of dying that enthused my reluctance.  Despite it so, I abide by his word and gave my oath; all for the sake of admiration.  Without a mother to call on and an AWOL father, he forged my hand and heart into the man I am today.  I had a console whom I could trust; a friend whom shared my vision:  Or so I believed... ❛ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄 ? ❜ His words shook me.  The revelation, a surreal—unwanted stupor.
The tolling bells of the Chromos Castle sound throughout the kingdom of Ragnarok; the skies amber, much like that day.  Flames danced within the provinces of what King Albion recreated in his six years of rule.  Twenty-four years old, the blond stood center of the citadel, listening to the screams of his people yearning for his hand to assist.  Teeth digging against the plumpness of his lip, he couldn't bring himself to bite his tongue.  Where he sought to rush with comply, the spears of his Holy Guard contest him to stand by.  ❛ This is an invasion; you expect me turn my head and quell as my people die; and you dare call yourself Angel !? ❜ Albion calls out, proceeding to force his way through his subordinates with haste.  Nearing the door, the voice of one of his archangels spoke to him, locking him in his tracks. ❛ These are orders per request of Sir Neinhalt, your Majesty. ❜ Having thought he heard that rebut incorrectly, Albion peers over his shoulder with prasiolites a wide, incredulous.  The silence between the present parties proven the heft of the archangel's claim.  ❛ N-Neinhalt wishes for me not to... intervene ? ❜ Praying for a reason behind that request, Albion yearns for the exit once more: all to be interrupting by an explosive rapping down the sanctuary halls.  Guards surround Albion once more; persistent that he doesn't make a move.  The resistance spanned past fortress doors——and they insisted he follow the whims of an advisor who'd not yet made his presence known ? ❛ Get out of my way ! ❜ He roars, casting his men aside.  What awaits his next action was the arrival of a taller man endowed in black armor.  A violet drawn cape danced in the wake of his strut.  Hollers behind him gradually subside beneath the clank of his greaves.  His lethargic expression didn't seem to reflect the situation at hand.  Upon his approach, he extends his hand toward the young monarch, lips curling to a contorted grin. ❛ You needn't concern yourself, my Liege.  The situation has already been accounted for. ❜  His occupied hand wield a mighty grand sword, to which the trench in its fuller trickled down the edge in crimson.  The pandemonium outside never waned.  Cold blues mocked the innocence of Albion's green, coaxing him with words that forever haunt him.  ❛ King Albion, do you trust me ? ❜ Whilst his Holy Guard went unmoved by the words, standing allegiance to this man who once represented order, Albion shakes his head...unsure what to think.  Jumping to conclusions weren't in his design.  His mind desperately searched for answers, mustering what he could as a benefit of doubt.  ❛ Neinhalt … ❜ ❛ You've always been a wise child, curious and inspired to help when a situation is in calling.  Those eyes of yours could see the truth beyond any intricate deception laid on the table … ❜ ❛ I …  What are you … saying ? ❜ Albion asks with reluctance, knowing well what assumptions were due.  He never bested this man with a sword and he knew he couldn't take on the entirety of his traitorous guard along with the nexus of the conflict.  The pain of infidelity fueled him, teetering off the tranquil balance of what he believed he was.  A hand raised summoning a broad blade as ivory as his armor whose fuller's sanguine began to resonate with a channeling ember.  Before the spears of his ex-guard could react the contour of this holy weapon's swing slashed clean through the metal, smoldering the polearms to touch from the incision downward.  Dropping the scorching metal from their hands, Albion made another swing during their distraction, slewing the men whom forsaken him.  ❛ You dare pose a coup against the Holy Court ? I'll have you executed ! ❜ Their blades clash, however the caliber of metal forged within Neinhalt's sword proved impervious to the concentrated heat of the young king's magic.  Pushed back, Albion stumbles over the felled soldiers, struggling to keep his footing.  The opposite did all but smirk in his direction, egging him on.  ❛ And you'll fail, like your Bitch of a mother. ❜  Teeth clenched, sucking in air with a sharp hiss.  His eyes ran teary, letting out a raging cry. ❛ NEINHALT !!!! ❜ I trusted you …
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justgalactic · a day ago
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“[Partridge] says the idea of the cage is eerie enough, let alone actually being inside it”
i hate this show i hate this show hhhhhhhhh why would you SAY that
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