B.
EDIT: I'm pleased to see that you are thinking along the same lines, Herbert West!
EDIT: I'm pleased to see that you are thinking along the same lines, Herbert West!
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Hmm, nope, those titles didnt ring a bell.
IIRC it was something about a secret room below the Black Sun symbol in the Wewelsburg. Basically like King Arthur's round table, but for Himmler's paladins. I think the book was about a old nazi conspiracy reaching into present times. But since Glenn Meade's Brandenburg has a similar theme I might mix it up with another book.
Oh well, not important anyway
CharonJr
IIRC it was something about a secret room below the Black Sun symbol in the Wewelsburg. Basically like King Arthur's round table, but for Himmler's paladins. I think the book was about a old nazi conspiracy reaching into present times. But since Glenn Meade's Brandenburg has a similar theme I might mix it up with another book.
Oh well, not important anyway
CharonJr
Mixed news, everyone.
The bad: Well, I wont get my diploma this year.
Good news: I sort of have time to write updates, and I know what I want to write.
I intend to flesh out the "otherworldly" background in the following chapters, in a quite dark manner.
To be honest, I find humans to be boringly predictable and grey, thus any human intrigue is, at least to me, either bland, or needlessly complicated and inefficient, so I'll try to imbue my future characters with some inhuman characteristics so they wont be as boring. Humanity is a bland, unimaginative bunch. And I am a misanthrope.
The bad: Well, I wont get my diploma this year.
Good news: I sort of have time to write updates, and I know what I want to write.
I intend to flesh out the "otherworldly" background in the following chapters, in a quite dark manner.
To be honest, I find humans to be boringly predictable and grey, thus any human intrigue is, at least to me, either bland, or needlessly complicated and inefficient, so I'll try to imbue my future characters with some inhuman characteristics so they wont be as boring. Humanity is a bland, unimaginative bunch. And I am a misanthrope.
I'm sorry for the bad news...
That's the human being, indeed. Homer Simpson should feel identified with this descri ption.
That's the human being, indeed. Homer Simpson should feel identified with this descri ption.
Notes found in the aftermath of the XX.XX.XXXX. explosions
Archiv#234
Unterarchiv #89: Irrenanstalt und Klinikum Hadamar
Die Übertragungen des Mediums Franzeska Pilscher
Dauer der Übertragungen: 12.09.1924-25.12.1924
Dead at Christmas. What a charade! The wards, or whatever possessed her must have had a very sick humour.
Dritte Übertragung:
Subject performed Type 3 Standard meditative connection. After prolonged failure to comply to simple requests and apparent catatonia, subject started speaking hastily, body stiffened. Body temperature measured to be 28 degrees celsius. Subject showed no signs of physical harm. Time of day: 01:12
Franzeska, can you hear me?
Franzeska Pilscher, do you hear me?
Listen to the sounds of our own extinction, hear the noise of a thousand painful deaths drowned in the abyss of nothing, the indescribable floating above the heavens and devouring Hell itself turning into a ball of dirt colonized by man who wear the faces of their skinned fallen as trophies on their chests creation uncreated turned against its source wheel stopping motion utterance is none.
So much knowledge, buried under so much garbled rubbish.
Subject fell silent for a period of five minutes, eyes rolled upward in their sockets, otherwise motionless.
A sign of the recipient mind trying to interpret what it has seen? Next paragraph is much more cleaner. Recipient mind overpowering vision, or vision showing recipient aside?
Subjects eyes returned to normal position, then a subbed twitching of the body. Speech is clean and slow, and sound guttural.
He was alive long before he was born. Or it. There is no human equivalent for whatever gender principia he represents. Hear this, for I am <subject uttered words at first non-decipherable, shown to be a name of angelic origin, perhaps Uhriel>, and I convey this truth to you so you may be warned. It knew of its birth even before it was a live, a spark to be lit afire, a promise on a fulfilment of potential. I do not know if it was malignant back then. Watch the words your mouth will utter, for you speak of concepts that are far bigger than you are. Do not prescribe to the presumption of interpretation, see the meaning behind the veil of words. bloody idiots, its either Samael or Azrael. Typical high-nosed archangel-talk
Now, hear, listen later. It wandered in the lowest layers of That Beyond Matter, in the places to thin and to insubstantial to exist.
It saw upward into the Higher Layers, it saw the Colourful Dance Of Creation, it saw the vibrations, vibration that were only faint echoes where it lived, and it grew with envy. So much for angles. All their high-brow attitude, and they still use the simplest human words. It subsided on the soul-detritus, the bits and pieces of life-power that had grown faint and did not want to fly upward, or be bound again, the fragments of beings fading out. And with it, it ate what was left of their lives, their beings, their feelings, and it learned of them. It learned all the little soul-resonances you call emotions, and so much more that you can not comprehend.
And it grew fat, and swam ever upwards in the Lowest Of Streams. There are other, sinister non-beings in that Nonsea, my Master once told me, but knowledge of them was not my Function. Perhaps it devoured them too, arch-eater of carrion. I do not know when it gained a self, when it became more than a mindless automaton gnawing at the All, but I know what it felt. I know knew what all those emotions it devoured meant, and it grew hungry for this newfound nourishment, for now it enjoyed its sustenance. It began to take Form and Function and Essence and now he is using the highest angelic metaphors, though it must have given these to itself, as El did not design such a creature. I have seen its shape, and I recoiled in terror, for it tore even at the thinnest of planes, and I dreaded what it would do once unleashed.
AND YOU HAVE UNLEASHED IT!
My kind has kept it at bay, kept it unborn, battered its head down every time it peered out of the Nonsea, and we have bled terribly, we have dwindled with each clash, and it only grew stronger and stronger on our fallen spirit-corpses, and on YOUR IMMENSE IGNORANCE AND SELF-DESTRUCTION! And now you have completely torn the Old Order asunder!
Do you even know what you have done? DO YOU? Your dead clogged The Gates, and the flood of your emotions swelled the stream of detritus, and he broke through to the layersthatboundhimdownandhetoreaparttheseamsoftheyaers
andourkindhassufferegreatly athousandeathweeachdiedaswedefendedcreationbutheisnow
feastinguponthecorpsesofgods
WATCH!
Subject screams. Subjects body in convulsions. Subject spits up blood and vomits. Subject administered high-dosage IV caffeine. Subject exited meditative state at 03:17
Subject did not respond to the outside world for twenty-six hours thirty-eight minutes. Subject asked for pen and paper afterwards. Transcript designated #4
Gods!
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Well, I hope you like this little titbit. I am honestly not that satisfied with it (I'm in too good a mood to write something truly dark right now), but I hope to better my errors with the fourth transcript.
The actual look of the update may change once I figure out how to create a picture of a typewriter-written piece of paper. As for background ambiance, I was thinking something along the lines of Begotten. Consider this a paceholder until I get something more fitting.
The actual look of the update may change once I figure out how to create a picture of a typewriter-written piece of paper. As for background ambiance, I was thinking something along the lines of Begotten. Consider this a paceholder until I get something more fitting.
Dark indeed, Herbert West, and forceful. A suggestion for the future, though -- I think the font shifts are a good idea, but especially with tired eyes the two run together somewhat when in the same paragraph. Setting them off a bit more -- whether with paragraph breaks, italics, colors or brackets -- might make the meaning clearer. Just MHO, though . Keep it up!
. Keep it up!
Dark it was.
And I don't really know how to 'comment' it.o
But I thank for the word 'Irrenanstalt'.
And I don't really know how to 'comment' it.
oBut I thank for the word 'Irrenanstalt'.
When I think that I have a clue about what is going on, I got fooled. The mystery grows thicker...
Now I know what are feeling the readers of one of my AARs...
Now I know what are feeling the readers of one of my AARs...
The-1: Duly noted I have recoloured the update accordingly. I hope it also helps a bit with the interpretation.
Enewald: it simply means "psychiatric ward"
Kurt: well, even I don't know where the ship of this story is going to sail to, so no worries.
I have recoloured the update accordingly. I hope it also helps a bit with the interpretation.Enewald: it simply means "psychiatric ward"
Kurt: well, even I don't know where the ship of this story is going to sail to, so no worries.
Warning, massive amount of literary blabbing ahead!
I have realised why all stories I start grind to a halt at some point. I am, if you excuse the massive egoism, someone who would like to write in the colourful style of Neil Gaiman with the detail of George Orwell. And it simply does not work out. Orwell is a very, very meticulous author, with a passion for detail, while Gaiman is more about atmosphere.
When I write a story, there comes a character, but he has to have a backstory, then the characters of his story have to have a backstory, and so on ad nauseam. I realise this does not seem to be prevalent in my "work", but It is some of the things that frustrate me. I like to have well-drawn characters, and well-drawn characters have to have a lot of exposition, and this exposition can clog the story. In this little exercise, for example, I already have most of the "endgame" in my head, but getting to the endgame is, well, work. Having an idea, and expanding it into a chapter are two very different things, at least for me.
So I figured, If I want to get anywhere with this story in this millennium, I'll have to switch my approach.
I have bits and parts of the main storyline in my head, and writing them down and "publishing" them could maybe be my "salvation" in this matter.
This will mean that seemingly disjointed updates will jump around a lot in space, time, and character focus, kind of how Burroughs' works look like. This has its pros and cons, both for you and for me.
Its pros include that this system works much better with the already episodic nature of any story posted on a forum (that is, I think, inescapable), and also allows the reader to read a part and then either forget about it, or to make up his own backstory. And said backstory can also be "ignored" as far as I don't have to write it all down and expose all characters beforehand, but can restrain myself to showing only parts of their lives so far. Such a "disjointed" shedule may also paint a picture of these events being picked up after some cataclysm, furthering the atmoshpere of dread and dark I intend to convey.
The cons are of course that if I do this in a badly executed manner, I, and you, will end up with an unreadable, illogical mess.
Never the less, I'll try this style if you dont mind that much.
One more thing. I know refering to Lovecraft when one wirtes "horror" is a huge cliché, but still, I have to do it.
The main reason HPL is scary and dark is that while in classical horror, you do the wrong thing, read the wrong book (yes, I am parroting that Gaiman interview here), rent the wrong house, whatever, and you are, in a way, punished for it justly. Classical "oh, I found this grimouire in the attic and invoked the devil" horror has a very human-centric and positive morality. You disrupt the system, and the system kicks your behind. Your actions have a very distinct feeling of wrongness.
HPL, on the other hand, created a system where everything you do is _in accordance with_ the system. You do not read the "wrong" book, you do not do the "wrong" thing, you do the "right" thing, and every horror you witness is not a punishment, but a very natural occurrence. You are acting as you should act. You are merely a little clogging piece of dirt in the grand clockwork that is the universe. The aforementioned wrongness is not present, in fact, everything happens as it should be. Humanity is not the centre of this ethical and moral system, it is merely a bystander and a puppet, soon to be washed away. This is a feeling I am aiming for.
(So by now I have referred to four very, very different authors whose style I'd like to imitate.)
Any comments?
I have realised why all stories I start grind to a halt at some point. I am, if you excuse the massive egoism, someone who would like to write in the colourful style of Neil Gaiman with the detail of George Orwell. And it simply does not work out. Orwell is a very, very meticulous author, with a passion for detail, while Gaiman is more about atmosphere.
When I write a story, there comes a character, but he has to have a backstory, then the characters of his story have to have a backstory, and so on ad nauseam. I realise this does not seem to be prevalent in my "work", but It is some of the things that frustrate me. I like to have well-drawn characters, and well-drawn characters have to have a lot of exposition, and this exposition can clog the story. In this little exercise, for example, I already have most of the "endgame" in my head, but getting to the endgame is, well, work. Having an idea, and expanding it into a chapter are two very different things, at least for me.
So I figured, If I want to get anywhere with this story in this millennium, I'll have to switch my approach.
I have bits and parts of the main storyline in my head, and writing them down and "publishing" them could maybe be my "salvation" in this matter.
This will mean that seemingly disjointed updates will jump around a lot in space, time, and character focus, kind of how Burroughs' works look like. This has its pros and cons, both for you and for me.
Its pros include that this system works much better with the already episodic nature of any story posted on a forum (that is, I think, inescapable), and also allows the reader to read a part and then either forget about it, or to make up his own backstory. And said backstory can also be "ignored" as far as I don't have to write it all down and expose all characters beforehand, but can restrain myself to showing only parts of their lives so far. Such a "disjointed" shedule may also paint a picture of these events being picked up after some cataclysm, furthering the atmoshpere of dread and dark I intend to convey.
The cons are of course that if I do this in a badly executed manner, I, and you, will end up with an unreadable, illogical mess.
Never the less, I'll try this style if you dont mind that much.
One more thing. I know refering to Lovecraft when one wirtes "horror" is a huge cliché, but still, I have to do it.
The main reason HPL is scary and dark is that while in classical horror, you do the wrong thing, read the wrong book (yes, I am parroting that Gaiman interview here), rent the wrong house, whatever, and you are, in a way, punished for it justly. Classical "oh, I found this grimouire in the attic and invoked the devil" horror has a very human-centric and positive morality. You disrupt the system, and the system kicks your behind. Your actions have a very distinct feeling of wrongness.
HPL, on the other hand, created a system where everything you do is _in accordance with_ the system. You do not read the "wrong" book, you do not do the "wrong" thing, you do the "right" thing, and every horror you witness is not a punishment, but a very natural occurrence. You are acting as you should act. You are merely a little clogging piece of dirt in the grand clockwork that is the universe. The aforementioned wrongness is not present, in fact, everything happens as it should be. Humanity is not the centre of this ethical and moral system, it is merely a bystander and a puppet, soon to be washed away. This is a feeling I am aiming for.
(So by now I have referred to four very, very different authors whose style I'd like to imitate.)
Any comments?
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As an added bonus you get song that in a way describes one of the three possible outcomes of this story.
Wolves In The Throne Room - A Looming Resonance
Switch off the lights, light a candle somewhere far away in the room, close your eyes, and watch the music unfold before your inner eyes.
(the song is actually 13 minutes long, but the uploader cut it short. Damn ye, youtube)
Wolves In The Throne Room - A Looming Resonance
Switch off the lights, light a candle somewhere far away in the room, close your eyes, and watch the music unfold before your inner eyes.
(the song is actually 13 minutes long, but the uploader cut it short. Damn ye, youtube)
As I used to say, there is no wrong or right, just several points of view, several judgements, several opinions about the same issue...
