which-entity-this-post-serves

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

heya!

making a biblically accurate-coded tma oc.

vast or spiral? if possible, both?

please help, my lovely eye friend.

many thanks!

If by biblically accurate, you mean as inhuman as possible, the Spiral holds the most potential. I would like to See the results of your creation.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #which entity this post serves

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

Does it matter if nothing is real?

Is it reality that gives things meaning?

Or is it enough to have simply experienced it?

What you See is your reality. To experience it is to experience meaning itself. Reality is frail, as each moment is born and dies and is reborn in quick succession.

Even if it isn't real- That is to say, even if you are the only one who experiences it, it still matters. It will still affect you. Do not trivialize it.

#which entity this ask serves #the spiral #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

i would appreciate a guide in how to escape the lonely.

i know it has a grasp on me.

i can't tell if it wants me to serve it or if it wants to feed off of me, but i don't want either.

please help me.

i miss my partner.

The Lonely is particularly difficult to escape, isn't it? Ironically enough, it is the entity that will hold you closer and closer, as if it fears its very self. Do not pity it.

Nor should you pity yourself. Do not isolate yourself. Do not surround yourself with others, either, lest you find yourself alone in a room full of faceless people and wordless chatter.

Talk to your partner, if you can. Keep your closest friend in the forefront of your mind.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #the lonely #“relatable. you'll be okay and so will i.” -archival assistant V.R.

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

ABSOLUTE RADIANCE (cue boss fight music)

The music swells as you push past those who have already found their seats. The thick, oily smell of stale popcorn ground into sawdust by many a muddy boot reaches your nose as the spotlights swirl around the tent.

Before you are able to sit, the lights land on you. You can't even make out the words of the ringmaster through the many cheers, the sound of thousands of voices piercing your eardrums, drowning out your protests while performers drag you down from the bleachers and out to the back tents.

A tall, thin man watches from behind you in the mirror while his performers get to work. He merely smiles at you, the sharp amber hazel of his eyes flashing from the shadows where he stands, letting your questions go unanswered. As you return his stare, you try to figure out what's wrong with it, but your gaze breaks when the performers fit you with a mask.

His hand is on your shoulder, all bones and sinew and sharp nails, and he drags you back to the Big Top. You try to see his face, but...his eyes. There's something wrong with them. He blinks, and his grin spreads, splitting the skin of his cheeks bloodlessly. He blinks again, and you realise what's wrong with his eyes, but it's too late to scream. You're on the stage now, fumbling your hands around the bowling pins you had been given to juggle as everyone watches.

It can't have been real, right? A trick of the light, perhaps? Eyes can't possibly open that way. Eyelids are horizontal, not...

You look up as you start to juggle, and you fall to your knees. In the center of the big top, where the crest of the tent should have been, an eye the size of a steamroller's front wheel stares back at you. You can see your painted mask in the reflection on its pupil, another clown in the circus, being watched with rapt attention.

You continue staring, because you Know that if it blinks.... Well. Without an audience, there is no performer.

#which entity this ask serves #the eye #the stranger #unreality #body horror #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

aww, thank youue..

we aprove! 🪱🪱🪱🪱🫀🫀🫀🫶🫶😁

of you. that is

cwrrycon, strange eye creature!

-🪱

👁️👁️

I'll see you again, I'm sure. May you find many a dark, wet, warm crevice to flourish in.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #the corruption #👁️🪱

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

pipe bomb

What a curious delivery.

A simple creation, meant only for destruction, but clearly made with care. A short section of a hollow steel rod, packed with gunpowder and a fuse, then welded shut on either end.

I will take great care of this gift, and use it as it was intended. I believe the Desolation would like me to return fire, as it were, and you have given me the means to do so. They will erupt, as they are apt to do, and I shall record the flames.

#which entity this anon serves #the desolation #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

I greatly admire your work. I take great interest in your categorizations and your anecdotes, o great and gazing Judge.

You would do well in an Archive. Keep reading. Never stop watching. Record everything.

Watch.

Know.

Behold.

#which entity this anon serves #the eye #beholding #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

tips for how to join the Vast? it calls to me every day and has slowly seeped into my Thoughts over the years

I need to Enjoy Sky Blue

I need the Deep to Care for my Bones

please

help

-🌊🪂

The Falling Titan reaches its hands towards you; you mistake the shadow it casts for the night, though you've never seen a night with quite so few stars. Reach up- its embrace will crush you. Sail towards it- it will dive in with you, and the waves it creates will drown you, but do not be alarmed. This will not draw you into Forever Deep Below Creation.

Gaze up.

Gaze down.

The direction will not matter.

All you will see is blue infinity.

#which entity this anon serves #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #the vast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

wgwhw...

what are your..?

you sre a strnage one; yknow..

hmmm...

-🪱

Greetings, creature of the Crawling Rot, and well-met.

#which entity this anon serves #the corruption #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

hello. i would like to ask you this as this idea is one that came to me after discovering this blog and is therefore inspired by it and i wanted to confirm that it would be alright with you. i would like to start a blog similar to this one except instead of posts i will assign entities to different songs. if you would prefer i did not do this as it is inspired by your blog that is okay, and if you are alright with it in the pinned post i will link this blog along with saying that it is the reason and inspiration for this idea.

The Beholding welcomes any Eyes (or ears) to join in the glory of the Watcher's Crown.

Join us, Archivist of Music.

#which entity this post serves #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #the eye

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

I desperately need this blog as just like a real creature that follows me around and tell me what entity is messing with me this time

The Eye follows. The Eye Beholds you and your fear. Trust not the Stranger, succumb not to the Lonely, venture not into the Dark. The Vast calls to you; fly not too high. Join the eagles and the falcons in the Hunt.

#which entity this anon serves #tma #tma podcast #the magnus archives

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Flesh, also known as Viscera.

Statement of Gabriel Ripley, regarding his injuries and how they occurred, given willingly December 3rd, 2007.

Statement begins.

Sorry again about all this, I know it can't be fun to look at. The doctors keep saying it'll be good as new in a month, but they started saying that back in March. That's when it happened, but it started in January. January eighth, I think it was. My partner, Kai Nash, and I had been together for a few years at that point. We worked well together, most of the time, and we rarely argued. When we did, though, it was only ever after either of us had a particularly long day. Maybe a phone call with her mother left her feeling a bit touchy, which, fair enough, I've met her mother. Maybe I had a meeting at work that made me feel like no one actually listened to me, including her.

I've got some disorder or another, see? It's one of those big-name ones, tends to make me generalize more often than I should, or blow something out of proportion when it's really not a big deal. That's part of why I'm so upset about this, y'know? One of the only partners I've ever had that I managed not to scare away, only for me to be the one running for my life.

That's not as dramatic as it sounds. I really did have to literally run for my life.

It all started when she joined that stupid gourmet club. Don't get me wrong, it was nice at first. She was making these insane meals, with fresh ingredients we never tried before. It was expensive, sure, but don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? She didn't want me in the kitchen to help, so I stayed out of her way. So far, so normal. She had friends over to try her new recipes, and I put on more than a few pounds.

Now that I think about it, she might've been doing that on purpose. Fattening me up, slowing me down.

It doesn't matter. I still got away, in the end.

Things started to get weird, after a month or so. Suddenly, we were getting all these shipments from who-knows-where. Ingredients that I'd never even heard of, going right into dinner on just a regular Tuesday night. We would have shoebill stork feet, prepared like chicken feet. That's gross enough as it is, but then there were butterfly tongues instead of saffron, and once, the root of a corpse lily grated and put in our salads.

I still smell it on me, sometimes. I don't know why she had to get the whole flower. It took up half the kitchen, and the landlord was getting complaints for at least a week. I thought we would've had to move out.

I was starting to get a little tired of it. I mean, who wouldn't? I just wanted a normal meal. Just one, and then I'd be willing to keep going with her whole gourmet thing. I requested chicken. It didn't have to be a whole chicken, or even cooked in a traditional way. She said she could do that, but she'd want to cook it her way. I told her that was fine by me, as long as it was just a chicken dinner.

So the day comes. March twelfth. I get home from work to find her in the kitchen, preparing the bird. She has all her knives out, laid in a neat, even line on the cutting board. She had set up all the vegetables around the board, too, already peeled and ready to be cut. To my surprise, she asks if I'd like to help cook.

She's the type of person who absolutely hates having people in the kitchen with her. One time, she jokingly threatened me with violence to get out while she was "at work" in there. I respected that. So when she asked for help, for me to go into her space while she was "at work", I had to ask if she was sure. She said she "couldn't do it without me."

I went in, and I watched as she delicately cut a line down the front of the chicken. I watched her pull the skin off, wondering what the hell she was doing. She wasn't careful, pulling it off. I asked her if she was taking it off for health reasons, but she just told me she liked it better without skin.

The way she said it seemed innocent enough. I didn't think too much about it. I figured maybe she was trying something new, like wrapping it in something else to surprise me? But I was in the kitchen with her. I wouldn't have been surprised when it was done. Still, I was stupid. When I asked her how I could help, she told me to just stand there. I watched her prepare everything.

Maybe I'm just oblivious. Maybe there really were no actual signs to warn me. Maybe nothing was actually wrong until I told her I wanted some normalcy. Maybe that's when she decided to do it.

I wish she had just broken up with me. Or maybe I should've broken up with her. That's what normal couples do, right? They break up with each other before things...come to that. I loved her, and I thought she loved me, too. If she genuinely loved me, though, I think she would've at least done me the courtesy of knocking me unconscious before turning on me too fast for me to do anything and driving the knife into my cheek.

I didn't even feel it for a moment. I heard a little pop as the blade pierced through my skin, and a blood-curdling scrape of metal grinding against bone. She covered my mouth to muffle my screams, holding my jaw shut. We both fell to the kitchen floor, with her on top of me. At that point, I expected one of the neighbors to knock on our door. I hoped for someone to come and save me, call the cops, something. Anything, really. But no one came, no matter how loud I tried to shout for help, no matter how many times I tried to bang on the floor to get the attention of our downstairs neighbors. I could barely fight back, either, as she pulled the knife back out and began to get back to her work.

I watched as though paralyzed as she brought the tip of the knife up to my forehead and pushed the tip deftly through my skin, right below the hairline, and drew it slowly around my face, down to my jaw, around the bottom of my chin, and then back up the other side. At that point, I think I really was paralyzed. Maybe I was in shock? It doesn't matter. I couldn't even scream anymore, but when I felt her fingers pressing into the cuts she had made, I desperately wanted to, even if it was just to cover the noises.

Do you know what it sounds like when your skin is pulled away from the fat and muscle underneath? It sounds like a wet rubber band pulled tight, almost to snapping. Creaking, sinewy popping, wet tearing. I try not to remember too much of that night, but when she was done, I remember her looking down at me, after wrapping my face around the stupid bird like it was bacon. I remember her smiling. She looked into my eyes and said, "I prefer you without skin, too."

I guess someone had called the police at some point, because they came a few hours later. They had to call for an ambulance, though. They didn't have the bandages or the stomach to wrap my face, or what was left of it. I think I was in shock or something, though. I don't remember going to the hospital. I only remember waking up after the first surgery, being told that the graft would heal in a few weeks. A month, at most.

It keeps coming undone, though. It never takes, no matter how many times I keep getting it restitched. That's why I keep it bandaged. I know it's bleeding through right now, that's why I'm rushing this part here. I have to go back to the hospital. Thank you for your time, but I really do have to go.

Maybe I can stop somewhere and pick up a chicken for dinner. Otherwise they'll just burn this skin, and that'd be a waste. It won't be as good as the one Kai made, but it'll be as close as I can get.

Statement ends.

Mr. Ripley has refused our requests for a follow-up, but according to hospital records, he stopped going back for facial reconstruction. When we tried to find him at home, there appeared to be no one there, and our calls went unanswered.

Kai Nash, however, was arrested, and was kept in solitary confinement in a federal hospital for the criminally insane until her escape in 2020. No trace of either have been found as of late.

#which entity this post serves #the fleah #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast #tw tags: #violence #tw violence #cannibalism #tw cannibalism #mentions of surgery #facial degloving #graphic depictions of violence

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Lonely, also known as The One Alone.

Your first house. Congratulations! It isn't as full as you'd like, and the lack of furnishings means that your voice will echo, hollow, around you. Just an inflatable chair sits in your living area, big enough for just one person, and that's all you really need. The echoes will learn how to respond eventually.

#which entity this post serves #the lonely #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Vast.

Try not to think too hard about the fact that sturgeons are only mostly predatory. Try not to think about the things that feast on them, in turn.

#which entity this post serves #the vast #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Extinction.

The car behind you rattles along, the engine shouts its protest as the driver pulls alongside you. You know better than to look, but that doesn't stop you. There's too many people in the back, and you know their placements make no sense, but that isn't what catches your eye. You see the girl in the back seat cover her mouth to hide her laughter as her other hand slips between the body of the car and the wheel.

How is it driving? How are the passengers still secure? Are they secure? Why is she laughing?

The car drives farther ahead, hiding in the mist, and you think you hear a crash. You speed up, looking for the wreckage, but there are no turnoffs and there is no car.

#which entity this post serves #the extinction #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Web, also known as The Mother of Puppets.

You have no choice. The crown is on your head, the weight of it pressing down until your brow furrows into a line that you would recognize if you were able to see yourself in the mirror. Your ancestors had the same creases, the same harsh wrinkles, that now paint your face in shadow as you command those who have no choice but to obey. You almost envy them. They have no choice, either, but they aren't burdened with the illusion of it. You give your orders. You feel their hate. You change nothing.

#which entity this post serves #the web #tma podcast #tma #the magnus archives

[which-entity-this-post-serves]

This post serves The Stranger, also known as I Do Not Know You.

It looks at you- Wait, scratch that. It has no eyes, so it can't look at you as you walk past. It's a mask, a still cast of a face, but you still think you see it smile through its painted tears. You turn back just in time to see it wink, but by the time your startled yelp attracts attention, the mask is the same as it always had been.

A little clay clown I finished yesterday :)

#which entity this post serves #the stranger #tma #the magnus archives #tma podcast