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@strangecarcosa.bsky.social
⠀ 𝑨𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒌𝒆, 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒂. 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒄𝒊𝒓𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒂. ⠀
⠀ 【 Ink coalesces on pages, spelling out a query: 】 “ ᵈᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ? ” ⠀
⠀ 【 And yet the winds do whisper, as if carrying a message from mouth to ear. 】 【 Nothing concrete. No intelligible meaning. They may not even be there at all, merely a product of paranoia... 】 【 Yet the dim yellow glow ahead would suggest otherwise. 】 ⠀
anauel.@len1vento.bsky.social · 4mo ago[ it feels like needles — no, something more subtle. a cold draft — prickling against his nape. he touches it, and as soon as his hand lifts, it ebbs its way back. ] [ where is this coming from? he’s alone. he /has/ to be. ]
EVERYONE🧑🏽👨🏻🦰👨🏻🦳👴🏻👨🏿🦱GET IN THE CAR👉🚗WE'RE LEAVING🏃🏻♂️THIS👇TOWN🏙NOW‼️WHAT THE⁉️NO🚫AHH😨😰THIS👇ISN'T A CAR🚗🚫IMPOSIBLE😱NOOO😟😣OHH HERMIT PURPLE🧶💜
⠀ 【 That it is. The feeling of being watched never quite leaves. 】 ⠀
anauel.@len1vento.bsky.social · 4mo ago... [ something’s wrong. ]
⠀ 【 In all truth, it may as well be. The bodies that have fallen in the wake of either ancient horror are countless, undoubtedly — combined, the number would be beyond horrifying. 】 “ ˢᵘᶜʰ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵍʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍˢ. ” 【 Page space has run out. 】 ⠀
《𓏏𓉔𓅂 𓄿𓃀𓇌𓋴𓋴》@the-oldest-fear.bsky.social · 4mo ago<< 🇾 🇪 🇹 🇾 🇴 🇺 🇭 🇦 🇻 🇪 🇳 🇴 🇹 🇦 🇨 🇹 🇪 🇩 🇾 🇴 🇺 🇭 🇮 🇩 🇪 🇦 🇳 🇩 🇼 🇦 🇹 🇨 🇭 🇱 🇮 🇰 🇪 🇲 🇪
⠀ 【 Pages shuffle as if blown by the wind, only settling when empty page space is visible. New words are scrawled in fresh ink by an invisible pen.】 “ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗˢⁱᵈᵉ ᶜᵃʳᶜᵒˢᵃ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ. ᵃˡˡ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵏⁱⁿᵍᵈᵒᵐ. ” ⠀
《𓏏𓉔𓅂 𓄿𓃀𓇌𓋴𓋴》@the-oldest-fear.bsky.social · 4mo agoMore limbs appear from the shadows, dropping onto the ground with simultaneous thuds. 🇼 🇪 ⠀⠀⠀🇭 🇦 🇻 🇪 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🇦 🇱 🇷 🇪 🇦 🇩 🇾 🇨 🇱 🇦 🇮 🇲 🇪 🇩 ⠀⠀⠀🇹 🇭 🇮 🇸 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🇵 🇱 🇦 🇨 🇪
⠀ 【 Spilled blood congeals and dries on soaked pages, creating a new message. 】 “ ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ. ” ⠀
《𓏏𓉔𓅂 𓄿𓃀𓇌𓋴𓋴》@the-oldest-fear.bsky.social · 4mo ago🇨 🇴 🇲 🇵 🇪 🇹 🇮 🇹 🇮 🇴 🇳 The word is spelled out with the limbs of those who have read that dreaded play. The bleeding arms make the manuscripts wet.
⠀ 【 And thus did the winds whisper: 】 ⠀“ 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵.ᐣ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯.ᐣ ” 【 and, lo, it was there: painted upon a wall in an allyeway, in gleaming yellow amongst the filth. 】 【 it was a terrible thing to behold. 】 ⠀
rain i would not ask this guy a DAMN thing i wanna keep my sanity thank you very much
ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs@roleplayquestions.bsky.social · 4mo agoOOC QUESTION If you could ask your muse a single question that they will answer honestly, what would you ask them?
⠀ 【 Smoldering manuscripts in a heap spew black smoke into the sky. The remnants of the great work bearing his name are turned to ash, and the words - those wretched words - are sent beyond the Heavens to disappate and disappear, such that they may never be read again. 】 ⠀
⠀ 【 Upon yellowed pages, words transcribe themselves; 】 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑫𝑫𝑬𝑵 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑿 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑫𝑮𝑬𝑯𝑶𝑮𝑺. ⠀
⠀ 【 And thus did the winds whisper: 】 ⠀“ 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵.ᐣ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯.ᐣ ” 【 and, lo, it was there: painted upon a wall in an allyeway, in gleaming yellow amongst the filth. 】 【 it was a terrible thing to behold. 】 ⠀
⠀ 【 A gate has opened. 】 【 A small, ripped piece of paper with the Yellow Sign carefully drawn upon its surface floats out of it. 】 ⠀
⠀ 【 There's a manuscript here. 】 【 Frantically scrawled upon aged, yellowed paper. 】 【 Strange symbols and splotches of what looks like ink dot the margins. 】 【 It speaks of a pallid mask and a strange land where black stars hang in the sky. 】 【 It feels strange to look at. 】 ⠀
rain oh btw despite the date this is NOT!!! a joke muse i am bringing horrors.