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SECUNDUS

Silent and careful, you and your companion step out of the small hospital room where she bandaged the injuries to your face; your left eye is blind now, and the swath of bandages covers much of the left side of your face and head. Your savior opens the doorway from the short, barely lit hall to another room, a room that looks more like a museum of sorts, or perhaps the back room of a circus side show. Glass jars line shelf after shelf after shelf. Teratological horrors, preserved animals, glinting fluid, limbs shorn from carious creatures, tissue from obscenities and beauties, gloriously intact and tragically defaced.

There must be hundreds, perhaps a thousand or more of the jars, of all sizes. Each is labeled in neat, delicate script, the suppleness of Nyean-Neither's hands lending itself to her lovely writing. She takes your hand gently and leads you through the stacks of preserved remains and abortions of life, moving in speedy ways and yet in silence save for the soft rush of her slacks. You catch only glimpses of the beautiful horror of the place, and perhaps that is for the best, as you can see movement elsewhere, through the yellowing liquid and gruesome tapestry of preserved aberrations. “We cannot linger here; my kin would not be pleased to find you here,” she whispers in warning.

Such a thing you can easily imagine, though you only have the vaguest of memories of such incidents

defilerblasphemersorcerermadman begone from this place lest I banish thee to the Wastes of Kadath to die unsung how dare you foul witchtemptressvilewomanchildharlot

occurring in your past. But it is the now where you are endangered, and you hope your sister is clever enough to not have followed you to this place.
>>
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>>661271
You flee with your new-found friend, her hand soft and warm in yours, her slender frame quick and sleek in movement. You follow with less grace than you should like, for your injuries are telling and even though she warned you they had been grave, the pace cannot be lessened.

Now you too can hear them, sibilant whispers in an ancient tongue, the speech born of vast deserts and gardens long fallow and drained of vitality. The soft movements of scholars amongst their books, though these books would be of the terrible things unleashed by the ending of and age. One whisper is just on the other side of a shelf and you slip past, glimpsing cinnamon skin wearing an aged face, robes and scarf, brown rheumy eyes moving past the glass to read what is upon it. He turns and speaks to his companion in the soft sibilance of a language long since gone.

Nyean stops, horror across her face as she sees the door from this reliquarium is shut and locked; she has no keys, you can see this, for her clothing hugs her curves most tightly. She looks frantically for another escape, as the whispering shadows move hither and yon in the dimly lit hall of glass and flesh and brine.

[] A distraction in fire and glass and liquid....
[] Don the pallid mask and conceal yourself and her from detection
[] You have keys, and mayhap something may be done with them?
[] A charm, a gentle curse, something, anything to keep the whisperers from you and she.
>>
>>661274
>[] Don the pallid mask and conceal yourself and her from detection
Well, why not.

Evening XS.
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>>661274
>[x] You have keys, and mayhap something may be done with them?
Seems straightforward!
>>
>>661274
>[] A distraction in fire and glass and liquid....
>[] Don the pallid mask and conceal yourself and her from detection
What rude whispers.
>>
>>661274
>[] Don the pallid mask and conceal yourself and her from detection
>>
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[X] Don the pallid mask and conceal yourself and her from detection

You slip your hand from Nyean's and hush her softly, turning to face the whispering priests of this this mausoleum of horrors and beauties. You lift the mask to your face and

Everything is much clearer now. You are in the underground railways of New York, seeking the vampiric spectre of your sister Carmilla. This is one of the underground hospitals established by the Sunni and the Sikhs and the servants of the Red cross, to assist in the care of those injured and damaged by the apocalypse. Their time has past, and now they simply delve into their religious text and collect medical knowledge when they can.

Nighean-Nathair is not human, but she is not dangerous unless you expose her. It would be rude, be cruel to expose her here in this place; these people waged war upon her kind for centuries, in their homelands. She has been kind, overly so, and wishes only to return to a place she thinks was once home, though it was never such a thing for her. Still, it is not your place to gainsay her, not yet.

You reach up and gather dust from the lid of one of the jars, holding it before your mouth. You lift your hand in the Sign of The Silenced. A recollection, a poem once spoken to you. “....I will show you fear, in a handful of dust....” A twist of the wrist and it is done, the dust fleeing from your presence and drive to the mouths and eyes of those within the room, save the one person behind you. Coughing and cries of pain and panic erupt from throughout the room, the men and women who serve here blinded and choked by your spell.

Gently moving the shocked girl to the side, you lay your palm along the lock, feeling the metal of it, the way it is closed. Not a deadbolt, more's the pity; you could have dealt with that much more easily. “What's behind this door, darling?”
>>
She looks at you, confused. “A hallways, it leads to the service tunnels and the main gallery.” Confusion turns to alarm as

You embrace her and cover her eyes. You whisper softly, the incantation to Yog-Sathoth coming easily, all too easily with the memories you try and bury deep for as long as you dare not have recovered. “You are the Door, the Key in the Door, and I am merely the Wind which May Pass Through that which You Are, Threshold, Guardian of it and Made of it, Forgive me my Trespass.”

You feel a sudden jerk and you blink, Nyean giving a soft cry of surprise and you let go of her, nauseated by the momentary movement from There to Here. It was such a short jaunt that you hope nothing drastic has changed.

Nyean grabs your hand again and you stumble after her, sick and somehow unhappy, as though whatever she did to get you through the doorway muddied your thoughts and memories more. Though, perhaps you are just ill from medicine and injury. Surely no more than that.

[] Beg for a moment to rest!
[] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
[] Ask her what happened, did you or she pass the door?
[] Just run, run and hope that you're not too late.
[] Jump from Here to There again, aim for the Station.
>>
>>661400
>[] Ask her what happened, did you or she pass the door?
>>
>>661400
>[] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
>>
>>661400
>[x] Jump from Here to There again, aim for the Station.
The vampiric connection was pretty obvious with the name and some of the powers, hadn't guessed the places though.
>>
>>661400
>[] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
>>
>>661400
>[] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
>[] Ask her what happened, did you or she pass the door?
>>
>>661400
>[] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
>>
[X] Follow, follow her lead, there is time to rest later.
[x] Ask her what happened, did you or she pass the door?

You put mistrust and confusion from your mind; she has only helped you so far, and without her help you would quite possibly be bereft of life, and you sister would remain unfound.

Allowing her to guide you you follow quickly; it isn't long before you are thoroughly lost in the maze of tunnels and side tunnels and doorways. But then she leads you into a very dim tunnel, the floor of gravel and rock. Only here does she pause and allow you to catch your breath. Placing your hands on your knees you bend over, trying to control your breath so that your body does not feel so starved of air.

“We can follow the tracks and reach the station quickly. There won't be any guards or watchmen.” Nyean sounds confident, and you are certain she has every reason to be, but the door had been locked. She is hardly winded of course; her athleticism is something to be envied! “From there we can reach the surface easily.”

“It would be best to be at the edge of the city, or along a river,” you tell her once you have caught your breath. She takes your hand and guides you to some steps that lead up to a pathway along the side of the railway tracks. You cannott imagine there have been trains in this place since

the sound of meat being prepared, the butcher's task never done, the patterign of blood as he prepares the feast for the true masters of the city, those who guard its life and welfare

for a long time. You gingerly touch the bandages along your face; they're dry for now, which is good.
>>
>>661522
“Was it you who moved us past the door, Nyean?” you ask. You feel her tense, her hand tightening slightly. “I do not mean to pry, if it a secret as to how you manged it.” She still does not reply immediately. “It is just that....I feel like this, often, after I have Moved from Here to There through the spaces between, you see. But I do not recall doing so....”

“You did just that, I think. You must have....been confused by the transition so soon after a grevious head injury.” She sounds uncertain, nervous almsot. You squeeze her hand reassuringly.

“It must be that very thing. Thank you, Nyean. You have been most kind to me, when I have been in need of much kindness. I will take you to Lake Hali, and guide you as far as I may.” She smiles, you can see the glimpse of it along her cheek.

“There is a river not too far, but we have to be on the surface; there aren't any connecting tunnels in this section. There aren't any running trains either; the last of them stopped about four years ago. Not enough power.” You look up at the vaulted ceiling, and nod. The emergency lights are weak, but they are on, and they give just enough light to see by.

You feel it, before you hear it; the stealthy, sliding steps, the scattering of gravel and rock. Nyean doesn't seem to hear it.

[] There's an alcove there to hide in!
[] Ask her what that noise is.
[] Wait for a moment, she'll notice soon and you want to see it.
[] It's a Shadow, not part of this world; hide.
>>
>>661535
>[] There's an alcove there to hide in!
>>
>>661535
>[] It's a Shadow, not part of this world; hide.
>>
>>661535
Damn, not enough power for trains huh. That's concerning.
>[x] There's an alcove there to hide in!
>>
>>661535
>[] Ask her what that noise is.
might be nothing
>>
>>661535
>[] There's an alcove there to hide in!
>>
I've never been on this board before. The blue text thing is really cool. Do you guys have fun? Is it homophobic and sexist here or are you guys chilled out about things in general?
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>>661596
Dude, that's /b/ and /pol/, lurk moar.
>>
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>>661596
>>
>>661596
Why not ask in the general thread, anon?
You're gonna find every kind of -ism on every board every now and then. Not necessarily often but still.
>>
>>661596
[X] There's an alcove there to hide in!


Though you cannot see anything yet you take advantage of your companion's eerie silence, and take several quick steps towards one of the alcoves that would most likely lead to another maintenance tunnel or walkway. She looks startled when you glance back, but when she realizes you are not looking at her she immediately looks back as well and allows you to pull her to the alcove.

You crowd together in the meager shadow of the doorway, you partly behind her as her dark clothing assists the shadows in hiding you. The next time you hear it, she hears it as well; you can tell by how she stiffens....no....tightens, her sleek muscles almost compressing instead of bunching together. You catch the first movement in the corner of your eyes, and then she sees it as well.

It is hunched over, stalking cautiously through the tunnel. It is not as much human is to should be; thick limbed, lumpy limbed;it's back has ridges....she has ridges. Her hair is thick, lumpy as well, tangled and matted and messy. She is bent at the waist, but her powerful, thick tail keeps her upright. She has a hard time moving her left leg properly, though she manages; an old injury, undoubtedly at the hands of some fearful explorer or group of cruel misfortunates near a subway or sewer entrance.

Her large, glassy eyes fail to see you, but she does pause, taking huge breaths. It was that you heard, her loud inhalation as she tries to scent food in the damp tunnel air. Making her way past your hiding spot, you can see she's as much reptilian and human, a creature of myth made real. She is pale under the light, almost white; her eyes gleam red and wet, but near useless in this dark place.

She continues on her way and you both wait a few minutes more for her to be well away from you. “A cryptid,” you murmur, garnering a confused look from Nyean. “A spirit-creature, born of human tales and myths. Albino alligator in the sewers, given a strange life through a mistake of birth, or perhaps a wicked curse. They existed bore the End Came, but they were entirely human looking most of the time, or entirely animal when the desired to be. Now....they are a mixture of both, their place between no longer present to keep them from seeming like humankind.” You can't keep the sadness from your voice. Tragic, and pained, clearly feared....but you wouldn't wish her to notice you, just the same.

[] Follow her; she might lead you to something.
[] You must needs be on your way, the sun will rise soon.
[] Ask Nyean if there is aught she can do for the poor creature.
[] Say a small Blessing Prayer for her, perhaps....
>>
>>661639
>[x] Ask Nyean if there is aught she can do for the poor creature.
>[x] Say a small Blessing Prayer for her, perhaps....
As we were helped, perhaps we can help in turn
>>
>>661639
>[] Say a small Blessing Prayer for her, perhaps....
>>
>>661639
>[] Say a small Blessing Prayer for her, perhaps....
>>
>>661639
>[] Follow her; she might lead you to something.
>>
>>661639
>[] You must needs be on your way, the sun will rise soon.
>>
>>661653
This.
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>>661639
Fine, let's see if it hurts to ask
>[] Ask Nyean if there is aught she can do for the poor creature.
>>
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[x] Ask Nyean if there is aught she can do for the poor creature.
[X] Say a small Blessing Prayer for her, perhaps....

“Is there ought you may do for her, Nyean? She is injured....and she will not fare well in this place so struck.” You cannot help yourself. As dangerous as she is, she is alone here; even you have your sister, wherever (whenever) she may be. The changing world has wounded her much as it has strengthened you. Nyean should understand....

Nyean is shaking her head. “She is more beast than spirit now, and more feral than I would dare try without weapons to subdue her with.” The look on your face must be something to see, because her dark eyes widen and she steps back from you. “I do not say so merely because we are limited in time! We could stay the day, and attempt to transfer there the next night, but I simply can't help her....it would take months of recover, even if she understood what I was doing....I don't even know what drugs to try on her to make her sleep!”

You lower your gaze, nodding, and Nyean relaxes some. You are used to listening for lies, and there has never been anything hidden from you from Nyean, nothing that wasn't about her personally. You don't begrudge her those secrets. After all, that would be utter hypocrisy.

Waiting a moment more, you murmur a prayer for her, asking for the blessings of the Hyades, the aversion of Algol's burning eye upon her; you murmur the prayer, while Nyean keeps an eye out for her return. A simple gesture, very unlike the one you gave to the fools who were hunting you, and the soft breeze takes your words to heart, That Which is Of The Air going forth to do some small good for the strange, broken creature than haunts this dark place.

When the breeze has gone, you murmur to Nyean that it should be safe to move on now. Only after another moment of waiting does she step out into the dark, though she remains on the raised walkway. Hurrying on, you both make good time, her hand soft and warm in yours.

come come at once, the ball Is nigh; the king shall attend, masked and robed, and all the city will dance as the king comes into his own, praise the Hyades sister dearest, come quickly

You wipe tears from your eyes. There is no shame in the pang of sorrow you feel that brings them forth.
>>
>>661832
It does not take long for you to reach the stairway up to the platform area. It is not the station proper, no, but it is a short cut, perhaps, one not meant to exist. Or perhaps it is for the maintenance men, or was once. Now only trees and wan moonlight and the feeble radiance of the were-lights that line the black roads of the abyss that lights the way up. Seeds have sprouted here, and Nyean leads you easily up to the road itself.

They sky is still dark, as are the roads, the luminous lines of witch-fire that run along them glimmering before you. Though Nyean does not hesitate to cross the darkness of the empty roads, you dart across on the shimmering lines of white fire, the delicate bridges over the yawning abyss. It earns you an odd look that brings heat to your cheeks, but thankfully she does not ask for explanation from you.

Down roads, avoiding those with too many people, for in this place many are early risers, competing to take the best of jobs and work the longest times, for bread and coin and pure water. The windows of the towering buildings sometimes light up even now, each one proclaiming how much closer to the sunrise you are.

“There, see?!” Nyean points out the dark water of the river, and you hurry towards it. You pass peace-keepers, who ignore you for harmless, and other early risers making their way towards the water ways. Fisher-folk have not yet come this far, or perhaps have no interest in this area just yet. Nyean glances to the east, towards the greater waters beyond the island city where the great and the privileged dwell. The worry upon her face is clear writ for you.

“There is time, the sun has no yet risen,” you reassure her. You would feel it if it had, feel the holy stars above you wink out as the sun casts its vicious rays of light across the sky. The island city glows with light and life; there is much movement there, where there is power to spare. “Come quickly though.”

[] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.
[] Make your way to Carcosa immediately.
[] Find a safer place to make the transition.
>>
>>661853
>[x] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.
>[x] Find a safer place to make the transition.
Do the first while doing the second
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>>661853
>[] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.
>>
>>661853
>[] Find a safer place to make the transition.
>>
>>661853
>[] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.
We're almost out of time
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>>661913
Though I don't know, if there's time to look for a safer place without missing our deadline, I guess we should.

I'm just vaguely pretty sure that if we aren't where we should be on time, we'll all have problems regardless of what dire and eldritch fate awaits us.
>>
>>661853
>[] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.
>>
[X] Ask one last time if she is certain of this.

You make your way hesitantly across the narrow line of white fire that crosses the shadowy black chasm of the road, and Nyean follows, though still confused by your actions. You look down at the river from the edge of the road, standing on the raw earth off the path of white stone that edges the black road. The water is dark, but that is not surprising; it has been more clear as of late, the enforcement of the peace-keepers and the fences of chain link that bar easy access making it more difficult to pollute.

You glance in both direction and see the inevitable gap in the fence. You could find a safer place to do this, but you must be sure this is what she truly wants and that will take at least long enough for you to peer into her eyes and see that she is telling the truth.

So you make your way closer, rather than safer. She follows, hurrying as best she can. Reaching the gap, you prise it open as far as you can, and she slips through easily, far more flexible and slender than you gave her credit for. Your jacket catches on the links, and you tear it pulling free; but you at least keep it. Already there are those who protect the interests of the powerful and wealthy coming to stop you. They cannot; it is too late for them, but not too late for you to ask one last time....

“Are you certain of this? Carcosa is not the place you should go if you seek home; it is no mere way station, no simple bypass to other worlds or times.”

She looks down and then into you eye. “It is the last opportunity. That you found me, or I called you, or however we crossed paths, it won't ever happen again. It is the last certain chance I have. So yes, please take me across the worlds to Lake Hali, to Carcosa, to the City of-”

You place your hand over her lips, bristling. “Do not call him, not when we are doing this!” She nods, her eyes wide and fearful, as you lower your hand. You turn towards the water, and speak the Words, making the Movements.
>>
>>662136
A Circle from your breast to your breast, parallel to the Earth: “Yog-Sathoth is the Key.”

A Circle from your breast to your breast and one quarter more higher, perpendicular to the Earth. “Yog-Sathoth is the Gate.”

A Circle from the top of the Key and Gate, counterclockwise, to the top once more. “Yog-Sathoth is the Guardian of the Key, and the Gate, and is the Key, and is the Gate.”


You feel the rush of power from the sphere you have described, and Nyean steps closer to you, her hands clutching your shoulders as she steps behind you. The shouts of the peace-keepers and the people of the city mean nothing now. The Door has been Made.

You reach out and take the large globe of power in hands, and it becomes visible, a shimmering, soap-bubble of luminous and oily color, light indescribable. The darkness it casts upon you limns yourself and your companions alike in a black glow, while the radiance washes all color from everything near you.

You spread your hands slowly, straining against the Guardian as is only proper. “Yog-Sathoth, Guardian of the Gate, Key to the Gate, relinquish unto me my Birthright! Make for me the Way to my Home!”

You pull, the globe expanding, your hands no longer touching it as it grows. “In the name of He Who Must Not Be Named, He Who Rules Carcosa, That Which dwells In Lake Hali....”

The globe pulsates, the colors intensifying, the darkness gathering more tightly, the brightness growing too intense to look upon. “I tell thee, Yog-Sathoth: I know the Yellow Sign, and it Commands Thee – Open, as the Key; Empty, as the Gate; Guard no More, this Passage!”
>>
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The globe moves suddenly, swallows you and your dear friend, consumes you and drowns you in the radiance of the universe maddened by the destruction of the world as it once was. Elated, you sing your exultation, which sounds much like screaming, and you feel wetness burst from beneath the padding covering your face. Nyean too is shrieking, a high, whistling noise no human throat can make. You laugh, and embrace, as you both tumble to the dark sands at the shore of Lake Hali. She trembles in your arms as you hold her, you laughing gaily and wiping blood and tears from her face as she sobs in terror and wonder. You gently push the mask back into proper placement as well, and kiss her in welcome before rising, your elation fading slowly as you look upon the grand castle of Carcosa. So close by, so far from the city of Carcosa.

Algol rises behind you, the fist rays of its darkness washing the white skies red as blood, the black stars slowly fading from sight as the red orb of His Eye looks gently upon the black waters of Hali.

Already you can feel her, sense her eyes hunting you, feel her ears listening for you. Carmilla comes for you, your sister does, and she will take you if she can catch you. You shiver and rise, taking off your coat as you look at the castle of the King In Yellow. You hear her soft gasp, and she shudders, moving to sit close to your legs, even wrapping an arm about the back of your thighs.

“I am home....we must not tarry, Nyean. It is not safe, even in daylight. Not here.” You look up at the darkening sky.

“Not in Lost Carcosa.”

>To be Continued....
>>
>>662146
Well, that's quite the cliffhanger at least. Thanks for writing, XS.
>>
Thank you for Reading and Playing.

The final act continues tonight, at 12:00 am PST during the interfact between Tuesday and Wednesday.

I'll stay to answer a few questions, the first and second of which are ones that haven't been asked but pertains to the origin of the story:
Yes, the Albino Alligator-girl was a spirit-child of North America.

Yes, Cassilda passed from one world to the spirit world - the literally world of the gods, which is closed to Ryukusa in her own time. There is no Barrier, though originally the spell she cast would have made one, rather than transposition her to Carcosa.
>>
>>662146
Thank you for running, were you able to resolve the issues with your hotel's IP being banned? Has that happened before?
>>
>>662146
Thanks for running.
>>
>>662164
No, but I found a workaround. Apparently someone was posting sexualized images of children from our internet service onto 4chan - which could have been anything from CP to Dance Moms nonsense nowadays.

Temp bans have happened before, but we have a shit internet service anyways. Nepotism for the Persians who own the hotel franchise, giving the money to their friends in the internet service business. You can access out hotel server from anywhere.
>>
>>662161
Could she pass to the spirit world at the time we're in during the main quest? Is it something she intrinsically knows how to do, something she learned long ago, or something related to the, current upheavals in the world?
>>
>>662161
Huh, I figured that Outer/Elder Gods/The Great Old Ones had their own elite dimension.

Though that raises some questions about where Lovecraftian nasties fall in terms of the nebulous interplay of myths and reality.

Also >no more barriers
It's funny, I actually kind of trusted most of the gods we've met to know what they were doing, and at least have the best interests of their nation and the people within as a whole.
>>
>>662178
No - the barrier between the real world and the true spirit world, the world of the gods, is locked away. The barriers are the only interface in Ryukuza's time.

That could be an important thing to remember.
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>>662161
Having failed to find any scanned versions, I'm gonna bite the bullet and buy the Horobi manga. What am I in for?
>>
>>662198
A prodigious tale of ESP, Demons, Dreams, and madness, with a dose of philosophical and ethical corundum.

Who is 'good' and who is 'bad' is quite literally everyone.
>>
>Is it something she intrinsically knows how to do, something she learned long ago, or something related to the, current upheavals in the world?
Sorry, missed this part.

Cassilda is a mystic, all of her skills are innate, much like a Japanese spiritualist's are, though trainign improves them. Before the Apocalypse, this spell would have made a Barrier exactly like those used by the spirit-children and sorcerers of Japan during Ryukusa's time. Now, much like attempting to make a Barrier in Japanese, you simply transition over to the world of Heaven, or Hell, or Yomi, or other such places. Carcosa is Cassilda's verion of 'heaven'.
>>
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>>662189
Remember, this is one of many possibilities. There were at least two others in the offing.

Also, Cassilda isn't exactly or remotely sane.
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>>662238
Ah, I see. Thanks.

So basically, she couldn't do this before the Apocalypse then? No wonder she's in a poorly way now if so...first time(s) it happened must have done a number on her psyche.
>>
>>662189
Metaphysics like this often confuse me. I guess my question can be at least partially summed up as, I know that Carcosa has existed for untold eons, but has it existed for untold eons -before- 1896?
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>>662263
Yes, and no.

Carcosa is a state of existence that extends forward and back from its inception. The things that exist within Carcosa have always dwelled there, and He Who Must Not Be Named is integral to it's existence in the same way that you are integral to yours - Carcosa is existent because it is a potential state of mind for any intelligent being on earth; it became defined in 1896, but that did not prevent it's existence before then, only calcified/soilidifed how it exists before and after then.
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>>662297
That mostly makes sense. I guess I'm just thrown off because I vaguely recall you saying that in-quest there was an author called HP Lovecraft (and yes I know that he didn't write The King In Yellow and at least some of what he did was collaboration with E. Ron Howard but still), but I'm not sure if he was some manner of oracle, or if linear time is for suckers.
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>>662332
Japanese tales of horror or mysticism often do not follow a linear path through time - watch the Japanesse version of the Ring (Ringu), The Grudge (Ju-on), Dark Water, The Eye, or Apartment 134.

The King in Yellow was a series of short stories by Robert W Chambers. He coined the often misquoted term, "Have you known the Yellow Sign?"
>>
Have a Hastur.
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>>662198
>Horobi manga
You got a title for it? I couldn't find anything that seemed relevant when searching for "Horobi".
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>>662360
Spooky!
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>>662364
That IS the title of it.

The author also created the manga Grey.

https://myanimelist.net/manga/13395/Horobi
>>
With that, I give you the Monster-Musume versions of the Mythos boys and girls before I go to bed. I may answer other quesatiosn before i begin the last chapter.
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>>662389
Aha, thanks. The cover looked so cartoon-y and not at all like what was posted back when it was discussed earlier that I just assumed that wasn't it.
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>>662407
He has a very distinctive style, second only to the artist of Baoh/JoJo's B. Adventure.
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>>662415
>https://myanimelist.net/manga/13395/Horobi
The advertisement on that page reminded me, were you able to find a good rip off Shin Gojira? And if not, are you going to go see it in theaters?
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>>662455
If it comes out in theaters, I will definitely see it. I haven't found a rip yet.

Have the cutest Colour out of Space.
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>>662460
http://www.funimationfilms.com/movie/shingodzilla/
Looks like it's coming out October 11th through the 18th with English subtitles in select theaters. Hope it won't be too far for you.

Have a classic.
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>>662488
It will play just down the road a aways, as a matter of fact - thank you for the encouragement to look for it. I didn't think it would be near my little foothill township.
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>>662513
Thank you for running, XS. May I ask if the ending here or in one of the other two tales might be the beginning of another?
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>>664269
To be honest I'm not quite sure what you are asking. Are you asking if I will be using one of the other two characters for a continuance on the side quest, or if I will be continuing with other characters after the end of Ryukuza Quest? If the former, the answer is not currently, and the latter, the answer is currently no.
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[b]Check[/b]
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Part 3:

>>665271



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