"it is said, that, beneath all the chaos, there is an underlying pattern of perfect order."
Once, there was no change, no entropy. Only the pattern and everything that belonged, designed and created to suit its purpose. Today, the pattern remains, but only in tatters, warped in new ways. From the echoes of the pattern came change and thought; driven by the "divine spark" that dwells within any sentient creature. Are these the fragments of Azathoth's lost mind?
It is not gold that spreads through the world now, the fragments are tugging at their vessels, they want to pull back together. It corrupts the world, spreading, consuming. We must stop this... We must. If we do not... If the Daemon Sultan sits it's form once more... The pattern will be remade. There will be nothing but cold and gold once more... -----------------------
Just some random thoughts on what if Azathoth was once a creature of absolute order, until he went fruitloops and the fragments of his mind scattered, allowing creatures to perceive the world (mores the pity). Naturally, these fragments see the current state of the universe as an abomination, and craves to "tip back the balance" and create a unliving, undying world of perfect order.
Take your pick what's worse.
"You crave a purpose, stability, an answer to the question "Why am I here?". I can grant you it..."
So, here I am running through the Painted World of Ariamis, trying to escape without dying *again*, or distubing those annoying spear chucking phalanax, when I'm greeted by a most pleasent message:
"Dark Spirit Xanthous King Jeremiah has invaded!"
So I do away with that pest by tricking him into rolling off a cliff, unfortunately meaning that I didn't get the goodies from his body, but the armour will turn up behind Priscilla's fluffy tail regardless...
So when I pick it up and examine it, the clothes are a most... garish shade of yellow:
"Mysterious clothing once worn by the Xanthous King Jeremiah. No-one knows where it came from, the cloth is tattered but quite soft to touch, and its bright yellow colour still stings the eyes."
"Xanthous" means "Yellow" from what I understand. So Jeremiah is quite literally the King in Yellow...
Love these little references.
After both those strange dreams, I finally figured out who Nyarlathotep was. Then I realised that he had already given me the answer;
"Are you a part of my psyche? My Shadow?"
" Yes... And No."
I interpreted that to mean that he was something other than just me. But a few days back it hit me that he was actually answering both questions in one go. Then I got another slap across the face when reading through one of Jung's books.
There was that feeling from deep within me. "Finally"
I realised that I was getting stuck in a dull rut, and this was my mind's way of teaching me how to enjoy life again.
Lovecraft was wrong. The human mind is an awesome thing.
The Outer Gods, Azathoth and Yog Sothoth, and their messenger, Nyarlathotep... We see them as three seperate entites, but are they truly three birthed apart? Was there once a singluar entity whose name and form are now lost to the mists of an age before time, light, space, and matter?
"I am the Alpha and Omega... The Fallen King whose court is staffed by idiots! You who stand on the edge of creation... What drives you to cast away the flickering spark of your life so easily...?"
The "body" of the three; it possesses neither mind nor wants, it is, simply put, nothing more than an empty shell, existing in a perpetual coma state, unable to wake for there is nothing to wake up to. There are no dreams nor hopes. Yet there is a certain... sadness about this creature, the feeling of a king or royalty, fallen from his high throne and is now scrambling about in the mud and filth, unable to comprehend this sudden shift in situation... It is rather upsetting.
"Time. Time is an artifical construct. An arbitary system based upon the logic that events occur within a linear progression. Always forwards and never backwards. Actions must proceed a consequence. To you, ponder upon this; is the human concept of time correct? Is it relevant? The answers are at your leisurely disposal, you need only ask."
The "mind" of the three; this is the consciousness of the entity, spread out to form the full stretch of creation, present in every space and every era. Yog Sothoth sees and knows all, and most students of the arcane will often find themselves, at one point, contacting this entity. I myself have met this entity twice, once in a dream, in the form of a pattern of floating, sparkling "bubbles", the second time was when I fell into a hollowed pocket dimension, outside of time and space, it was- to my mind and eyes- a ruined palace with a barren landscape. I met "him" several times there, the same entity, but reaching out to me from different points in a linear timestream. He took the form of a somewhat emaciated man of a pale complexion with hair a shocking pink colour (Why this is, I do not know, nor do I expect to understand) he wore clothing of white with gold bangles and bubble patterns along his legs and sleeves, and he clutched a thickly bound tome under one arm. When in my peripheral I could see spheres of energy swirling around him, colourful and bright never settling, always shifting (An extension of "him" too?). When we spoke, his conversations were kept brief, his voice carried no emotion whatsoever. Cold, consice, and only what I asked for. Most curious.
"Aaawww... Look at you, tiny little mortal. No idea what you've got yourself into. Do you think me cruel? Callous? Uncaring? Tell me; have you lived my life? Have you lived these past nine hundred milennia? No... You haven't. Are you going to run? Scream? Dance? Hmph... I thought not. Banish me? Banish me?!! *chuckle* How precious... "
The "soul" of the three; (and my favourite) he is a formless creature with a hunger for entertainment. Without the soul, the body has no drive, no will to live. He is emotion, drive, impulse. An offshoot that has developed a mind of it's own. (Again, I do not pretend to understand). Everything is done for his own amusement, this creature is liable to kill you or spare you on a whim. It is like a child, setting up a long trail of dominos, waiting for the giddy thrill of watching them all come tumbling down. If Yog Sothoth is the consciousness of the universe, does that mean that a part of him lives within us all? It would certainly explain why Nyarlathotep cannot refuse our summons, perhaps not for some thrill at the attention (or perhaps it is), he has no choice in the matter. On a personal note, he is often a very playful, interesting presence (in his own term of "interesting" and "playful") who tends to leave cryptic messages, paranoia and strange, moving shadows behind. What a nice guy!
Ok, that's it... I find it offiical in my mind, the Slender Man Mythos is some of the scariest stuff I've ever seen. Damn you, Marble Hornets for your entries!
From a metaphysical standpoint, I haven't gone to bed feeling this paranoid and headach-y since the thoughtform of freaking Nyarlathotep popped in to give me nightmares and pass on whatever demented messages he had. Yep, I've fallen into the trap that most writers of the Slender Man Mythos have done befoe; I give myself nightmares. At least with Nyarly you can have a pleasent conversation before the brain exploding insanity starts! Worse still, these nightmares are coming from stuff that I haven't even written down yet!
Since I don't want to have any more nightmares, I've found that this helps to calm me down.
" >: You decided to watch the Midnight Channel while eating Nanako's science project."
" 'It's almost like they expect the Police to solve crimes or something!"
"AWKWARD STRIPPER DANCE!!" Oh, Nyar, you never cease to amuse.
"Delta Green Archives:
- The following report is a written depiction recorded from a badly damaged camera located in an abandoned hosptial, based in thick woodlands near Arkham. Due to the deteriorating state of the recording, this annotation has been provided and uploaded to the Delta Green server in order to preserve it.
Circa 599,998 AD.
Is the true horror of the universe merely reflections of our own twisted psyche? What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if our dreams decided they no longer needed us?"
Delta Green Archive:
These are a strange breed of "superhumans" who only exist in an alternate universe. The history of the Beseechers is not truly known, but it is rumoured that they were once a group of mages living in solitude who were sought out by power hungry pilgrims. The power of the Beseechers once came from their devotion to an avatar of the Crawling Chaos, but more recently Nyarlathotep has taken to choosing people it finds "interesting". Once a person has become a Beseecher, they are given possession of strange, reality bending powers that appear as "magic" to lesser, more primitive humans. Becoming a Beseecher is not a gift- no, the Crawling Chaos gives nothing for free. In being chosen to be a Beseecher, you enter a contract with the God-creature; you are given the powers and free reign to use them, but Nyarlathotep is forever closing in to enact payment from you. Your payment is your soul, to serve It in both life and death, eternally.
All Beseechers can be identified by their defining tattoos, the first stage is a single rune on your wrist, slowly developing into a complete circle around your wrist, it then spreads to your other wrist, and finally onto the back of your hands as closed eyes. Once these eyes are open all the way, you are It's thrall. Suicide offers no escape either, Beseechers who kill themselves find themselves before the true, unmasked form of Nyarlathotep... Naturally, the beast is not happy with their attempt to wriggle free from their gruesome fates and enacts torture beyond any human comprehension.
They have a heirachy of sorts, the newest Beseechers at the bottom, the older Beseechers higher up, beyond that are the Commandants- the chosen few- above that is the 1st Commandant holding high influence over the others and gifted with the power to call for aid from the Dark God itself.
The Beseechers are shown to possess the following abilities, if they have any more is unknown:
Aspect of Terror: By staring into a Beseecher's eyes, they can plunge a dreadful fear into the hearts of their victims, if the sanity of the subject is not shattered, they will run away and cower for a duration of 5 hours.
Aspect of Beguile: Beseechers have an unnaturally high charisma, but this power allows them to bend the whims of weaker minded humans to their will.
Second Sight: Beseechers are able to focus their brainwaves and gain a sight beyond sight, the pulsing lifeforces of nearby creatures are revealed to them, even beyond solid objects and other dimensions.
ShadowStep: All Beseechers- through their affnity of their master, are able to move silent and undetected in dark areas.
Summon Swarm: Astral parasites are pulled in from another plane and will attack anything living, draining the vital energies from a person and reducing them to a vegetative, zombie-like state.
Spacetime Manipulation: Do the Beseechers move at a supersonic speed, or does they move normally as the universe slows around them?
Summon Nyarlathotep: Come Dark Pharaoh! Come Ruinous Tyrant! Hear my cry for aid and make your presence known to me! (Invite him to parties, he likes that. But if you catch him in a bad mood...).
Does it give the Beseechers those powers to serve it's purpose- knowing they will soon be it's thralls- or simply give it to them just to see how they react to being in possession of those abilities?
A Beseecher... A bit like a Vamp character, they start off as powerful PC's but ultimately develop into NPCs as Nyarlathotep makes them a puppet. You can work out the MP/ SAN cost on your own terms. Cheers. Feel free to use them and let me know what you think!
Archives from the Sothoth Facility 2:
5 Billion AD:
The year 5,000,000,000 is a forbidden time zone for D.G. Agents. It is also a part of the era where mankind's evolution has led them to become like the Outer Gods in form and mannerisms (?). It is forbidden due to the fact that none of our technology is capable of protecting us from severe mental breakdowns. (It's like being back in the Dark Ages! ) One Agent's goggles overloaded and shattered upon witnessing what we had become. Upon his reurn he appeared to have lost all sense of stability,and began to gouge his eyes out, shrieking. Another Agent put him out of his misery. No further information is known about this time zone.
 : Automated Notice: Agent Donnovan will stop annotating files.
A32X / "Forget":
Short of suicide, this is the ulitmate in last resorts. A D.G. Agent's job is- much like a Yithian- to travel to various periods of human history and preform recon. However, such travels are not without various hazards. Insanity and suicidal tendancies are common results of this profession. The A32X drug (Codename "Forget") is only available through black market contacts. As is suggested, Forget purges the user's short term memory, erasing whatever horrors the person may have witnessed, but also any valuable information gathered during such a time. Once an uncomfortably bitter pill, the drug was later refined into a pharmacopedic patch placed on the skin of the neck.
They are the remenants of a cult of Nyarlathotep. Skepticisim set in when Delta Green finally executed their most ambitious plan and used a locallised Null Field to bind the powers of the Dark Pharaoh, who was then incacerated in Arkham Asylum and placed under constant watch. (Circa 600, 079 AD) By witnessing their God reduced to the butt of jokes by D.G., the Arkham cult went into dissoloution. The Soulless are now all that remains, clad in black trench coats and faceless white masks*, no-one can recall who they once were. The Soulless do not seem to be aware of the people around them, nor do passers-by often seem aware of The Soulless unless attention is specifically drawn to them. Without identity, or purpose, they often stand around in the Black Market, not moving, eating, or drinking. Due to this behaviour, people assume that they lack their souls.
One day, they just... Fade away...
* One Agent investigated, and found that masks they wear are infact fused to the skin!
Public access to files is revoked. All access to files must be authorised by users of a "Keeper" level authority.
"The Sothoth Facility was first purposed in 4212 AD, and was fully operational by 4334. It is Delta Green's main archive and information processing facility, named for a certain trans-dimensional entity. The Facility's mascot's, Parma and Enlil, were artifically created, sentient bubble creatures that were a delight for visitors of all ages. But, with the AI supercomputer catalogging increasingly disturbing information, the entire facility was closed to the public in 4998, and the mascots were disposed of, much to the dissapointment of young children everywhere."
Delta Green Agents:
" Unlike our current, or past variations thereof, these mysterious Agents appear all along the timeline. Based upon their weapons and equipment, they seem to be from a far future version of humanity*. Their main directive when operating within the past seems to be the protection of mankind during vulnerable areas, and the protection of the "Chicken-and-egg" paradox that allowed them to reach such a point in time without 'Outside' interference."
"Additional Information from Yithian ambassadors have revealed their origin point to be from the estimated year 600,100 AD."
* Supplemental Note: The archivist who composed this file uses the term "human" as a placeholder, while the Agents she encoutered were human by name, evolution appears to have begun to evolve them to a form slightly beyond what we of this time would recognise as a normal human.
Delta Green Goggles:
"These curious devices are a vital tool in D.G. investigations. Mythos Specialists consdier these invaluable for the catalogging of crucial information, and the maintainence of an Agent's metal health. The single lense goggles function by generating a localised Null Field, and a perception altering effect that prevents severe mental breakdowns. By creating a temporary seperation- or "filter" between the conscious part of the mind, and the event being witnessed. The subconscious mind accepts the creature or event without question or denial, and makes it easier for the conscious mind to follow suit. A vital flaw with these devices is that they can often cause migranes after prolonged use."
Race of Yith:
"This curious race hails from an unknown time and galactic vector. Many suspicons still remain over their purpose here, most are due to their blatant refusal to share knowledge or technology with us. It is fitting then that the Sothoth Facility's schematics included a gamma wave E.M. field to prevent powerful psychic infulences, or mental transfers with the staff of the Facility, and all security bots have been programmed to recognise abnormalities in the brainwave patterns of any and all visitors, therefore our archives will remain closed to them until co-operation has been established.- Circa 4972 AD."
" The Yithian Embassy was created in 4872 AD as a political support for Yithian scholars who wish to study our era, or any who would consider wanting to make this place and time their permenant home. (Records indicate 4 rare cases of this occuring as of present.) Working in co-operation with EarthGov and Delta Green, the embassy decided that permenant mind transfers would be intiated with society's "undersireables". This scheme did not sit well with the general public and many outcries and protests occured as a result. Finally a compromise was settled upon, the 'Volunteers' for such an escapade would be criminals who's punishment was death. This way the benefits outweighed the losses. A supposed destruction of the embassy occured in 4921 AD when a politcal war between the Yithians and the Mi-go escalated out of control- further investiagtion places suspicion upon the Crawling Chaos for enticing this*- however the timely intervention of Delta Green and Yithian Agents, meant that this supposed destruction was lost to a paradox effect, and the embassy continued onwards down the alternate timeline of 4921 ADX, where the war never escalated.
* The enticement is something that he denies.
I finished this ages ago, but I thought I'd be nice and post a link there for anyone who was interested in reading my work.
I tried to keep this true... But forgive me if it veers into inaccurate territory at some points.
Please, comment and leave your views.
Why won't this guy leave me alone? Is there something he's trying to tell me?
Nyarlathotep specifically scolded me not to write this up like " One of [My] stories".
Down, beneath the earth, I take stone steps one at a time.
The smoothness of the walls an steps, combined with their ancient age suggest that they were constructed by my ancestors, or whomever came before them...
Regardless of maker, it had been placed here solely for the purpose of my visit.
The darkness pressed in around me, I forced it back with the golden glow from a lantern I held out before me. Eventually, the stairs came to a stop, flattening into a corridor.
A few steps later, the corridor dipped in a few feet of inky black water. The dim light sparkled on the water's surface.
Something beneath the surface shrieked, driven off by the light. Unafraid, I waded through the water, up to my shoulders, holding the lantern overhead. Finally I made my way up, "ashore" onto silvery sand. A small beach in a subterran cavern!
With an annoyed groan, I brushed the leeches from my clothes and skin, placing the lantern on a nearby wooden cart. A simple stone throne was a short distance away.
My attention returned to the throne, now occupied by a tall, slim figure in rich white clothing. Long, black-as-the-void hair framed his handsome face. This was a sure departure from the last time. Now he seemed warm and welcoming.
I knew to remain cautious.
He tried to keep my attention with honeyed words, thinking me oblivious to the pale, bloated, waterlogged corpse creeping from the water behind me. I elbowed and kicked it away without looking.
Nyarlathotep was faintly amused.
'Why did you come here?'
'I'm here searching for the Horned God.' I told him.
He stood up, standing next to me and holding out a hand. 'Shall we search together?'
There were arcane symbols tattooed on his palm...
I held my hand back. 'No.'
'Do you not trust me?' He sounded curious, voice soft as silk.
'Not at all.'
He smiled, amused, voice normal again. 'Most wise.'
Then came the most interesting question as we walked.
'Are you a part of my psyche?' I asked. 'My Shadow?'
'Mmm....' He looked thoughtful, constructing an answer, as though I had caught him off guard. 'Yes and no...'
I began to think about how I would write this, not aloud, but he still looked annoyed. Hence my scolding.
'Do not treat this like one of your stories!'
At some point, we departed. Nyarlathotep vanished, stepping back into a deep, blood red fog that swept in from behind him, filling the area. He said that I could "find [my] own way out."
There was a hole in the ceiling, a bright blue butterfly , formed from light flew around just above. Philemon*, guiding me to safety.
I will say, it was nice to see a friendlier side of Nyarly, though what on earth he meant by "Yes and no" is something that escapes me.
Does he mean he is a part of my pysche, but not my Shadow?
Or that he is my pysche, but.... Also something else?
* For those who haven't played the Shini Megami Tensei: Persona Series, Philemon, apart from being Jung's "Spirit Guide", is a gentle creature created from the goodness of humanity's collective unconscious. His epiphets are; "Master of the Ego", and "Revealer of the Truth". He appears either as a butterfly, or a young man in a butterfly mask. Beneath the mask......
Go look in a mirror.
Nyarlathotep's "improvements" take it's toll on the television.
"'Done.' The screwdriver disintegrated and the Crawling Chaos slid closely up to Alex, who was currently searching for the remote. 'If this blows up in my face...'
'It won't. Trust me.'
'Speak of the Devil...' Alex snorted, flicking through the TV channels. 'Huh? I don't remember these channels.'
'Yeah, I boosted the signal. By a few million miles.'
'Channels from Spain, France, Poland...'
'Solar Centuri, Atraxxi...' Nyarlathotep continued.
'... Wait, what?'
'I said I boosted the signal, you get more channels this way.'
'Not from other planets!' Alex demanded. 'Wait, what's this...? "The Human Oafs"?!'
'Err, we don't need to see that!' The Crawling Chaos stammered, snatching the remote from Alex's grasp.
'These TV channels are getting weirder by the day...' Mrs Gale squinted at the alien text going across the bottom of the screen. 'Is that Japanese subtitles? The reporter doesn't look too good either. Probably some foreign disease.' she sniffed loudly. 'Hope they don't bring it over here...'
'Don't know if I'm going off my cornflakes...' Linda wondered, looking down at her cereal."
After the Crawling Chaos tinkered with every electrical device in the house, Linda Gale's workout takes an unexpected turn.
"Turning the world into a nuclear maelstrom is not gentle!! -Alex Gale scolds the Messenger.
"It was when they came home that they discovered an inevitable side effect of Nyarlathotep's tinkering. Linda panted as she run on the treadmill. 'Oh, thank God! Get me off this thing! It's evil!'
'I control everything in the apartment.' a metallic voice rasped from the running machine.
'I knew something like this would happen... I just knew it.' Alex groaned before facing the Crawling Chaos. 'Can you fix it please, oh mighty one?'
'Maybe. She needs to trim the fat.' Came the sharp reply.
'Ugh... Guys!' Linda was trying to climb out of the treadmill, but it gave her an electric shock each time she tried. 'Ouch!'
A 19 year old seeking work, he and his family have recently moved into a new house. But it is in dreams that things take a bizzare turn.
Drake's younger sister, she suffers from insomnia and can often be heard roaming the halls of her new home at night.
The mother of Sarah and Drake. She remains oblivious to the odd goings on around the house.
The father of Sarah and Drake. He died long ago when the children were young. Nyarlathotep stole his form and uses it to try and twist Drake to his desires.
The Absent Horror/ Lazarus Mcmillan:
"Do not take this lightly, there are horrors out there..."
Later revealed to be the "Light" side of Drake's subconscious, formed from the better impulses of protection and growth.
The Hooded Man:
"That is all I wished for;... Acceptance."
Drake first believes this- upon finding a batch of Lovecraft's letters- to be the Crawling Chaos, but it is later revealed to be Drake's Shadow Side; a collection of all the things he knows he is, but refuses to associate with.
"Ooo... I'm gonna enjoy this!"
Later revealed to be a personifcation of the "Dark" side of Drake's subonscious, formed from suicidal, and destructive urges. Drake's pyschiatrist is also revealed to be another persona of this.
Not exactly a nice part of his mind, but a needed part.
"There is no point in living... All things must end! There is no point to anything! Go ahead, cry to the deaf void!"
A remenant of the beliefs (or lack) of Howard Philips Lovecraft, it imposes itself upon the manor in an attempt to turn everything into utter nilhism. Manifesting through the darkness, it will break down reality if Drake comes into contact with it.
Yah, Jungian POV makes things so much simpler...
A subtle chill goes through my spine as I try to recall this fuzzy dream memory. But, I assure you, every word is true.
It was at a twisted time between dream and wakening. A hatch appeared in my bedroom ceiling, supposedly leading up to the attic, but it wasn't the attic.
Spiders. Massive tarantulas. I slammed the hatch shut again, falling back onto my bed. I could feel Him up there, laughing at me. I wasn't going to be weak. He wasn't going to have his way. I pulled the hatch down and marched past those spiders and into the dark, shadowy attic.
Two stools stood in a shaft of moonlight. I took my seat in one, feeling the green padding. Then He came. Nyarlathotep. Emerging from the darkest part of the room. He took a seat too, dressed in dark black robes, that glimmered in the moonlight. (Dark Pretty!)
I couldn't see his face, just.... nothing. I could feel him looking at me though. He spoke to me, but my mind simply cannot recall what he said.
I think I insulted Him. My ego simply could not pass up the chance to mock him, calling him a weak Thoughtform. His reply was bitterly sarcastic- or was he angry?- saying that he was a God, capable of crushig the world with a thought.
Yeah... I was startled awake suddenly. Just snapping back to the waking world.
Now, I still don't know what it was. Was it a Thoughtform? The Crawling Chaos? A Trickster spirit?
( Feedback is highly appreciated)
I've heard it rumoured that Lovecraft -in his youth- sought solace with the Gods of Egypt. But it appears that it was not until his shift into atheism that the Gods finally answered him.
He says that his inspiration for such Outer Gods came from his dreams. Could we be clever enough to assume that something existing on another plane came into contact with Lovecraft, but he- in his sleepy, skepitcal state- refused this as nothing more then a figment of his imagination and they became characters in his stories?
From a metaphysical standpoint, we could assume that such things are held true, as in the grand scheme of this universe humanity holds a great degree of power, or possibly better to echo the words of Teilhard de Chardin to... Carl Jung (?) I believe: "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings having a human experience." I could be one to say that our minds have "synched" with the flow of other planes and the energies released from picturing or thinking of such entities have created Thoughtforms of said beings, in this they are certinally not the sanity snapping "Gods" of Lovecraft's world, but I could also just as easily say that there are things out there, for example there is a "Nyarlathotep" out there, on some plane.
At this time... I wonder if anyone here has gathered enough of a spirital belief that they have read the "Book of Old Ones" by 'Scorpio', it gives an insight into the summoning of such Thoughtforms. Not that I have personally done as such, but I have mentioned on another forum as:
So you have invoked them before? How often, and what have your experiences been? If you don't mind sharing :]
Lets see Nyarlathotep is the one i manly invoked most of the times he came and watched me over and if he has something to say he WILL (note the caps) make it know to me he seems to be watching me and delivering messages that i cant understand but have noticed (they are transformative bringing me changes and some minor madness like paranoia and small shadows that seems to be um moving)
Hey, while looking around, I found this as well.
I know a guy who was contacted by Nyarlathotep. There was no violence or screaming, a little eerieness but that was to be expected.
About Nyarlathotep in his form as a Pharaoh
"...His eyes devour you, rip you to pieces and show you what we truly are. It is awe inspiring. It's like the comfortable warmth from being submerged to your neck in mud..."
Another said of his encounter there was only a sense of "deep understanding."
Now that's interesting, in that respect he sounds very much like Set, in the sort of "I'll show you what you truly are without bias" way. "
As I mentioned there: I feel that Nyarly was inspired by Set, or I could go further to say that it is Nyarly who is a mask Sutekh wears, not the other way around.
It appears that in our world, there is an intense warmth, not exactly Love per-se, but at least a level of friendliness, a feeling of being linked to every living thing. A far-cry from Lovecraft's uncaring cosmos.
I have done some research into the world of HP Lovecraft and have discovered weaknesses that can temporarily disable or stun them:
Cthulhu: Let's start with big green himself. What you need for him is a chef, and an electrical impulse capable of turning the entire ocean into a flash fryer. Just don't stand in said ocean along with Cthulhu. Bingo! Calamari for all!
(side effects may include: killing everything in the ocean, bad tasting calamari)
Azathoth: Well, face it... If you've made it this far I doubt you'll have any sanity left. Bring a squeaky toy, and keep your eyes shut. You haven't traped across the void just to crack now. Then, when you hear the snoring of a blasphemous creature, throw the squeaky toy in it's direction. With any luck, it will keep Azathoth amused for the rest of eternity. (Side effects may include: Every living creature being turned into a squeaky toy, via Azathoth's mindless wants, and/ or being given the Crawling Chaos on a temporary leash (DO NOT TRY STUNNING N. IN THIS CASE! Results may not be amusing for you.) )
Yog-Sothoth: Hello, Yoggie! Give this one a bumper book of crosswords to distract it. Be sure to bring along a new crossword book every year or so, to ensure Yog doesn't get bored. (Side effects may include: Hearing an odd noise; it's just Yog scratching his "head" in thought)
Nyarlathotep: Nyarly! *Squee* You know what to do with the Haunter of the Dark. But for Nyarly's human forms, I suggest this: walk right up to him and kiss him. No mucking about, just snog the daylights out of him. He won't be expecting this avenue of attack and so will be stunned long enough for your teammates to escape. Try and keep it up for as long as you can stand being near him. (Side effects may include: Being stalked, him becoming agressive and dominant, -Azathoth forbid- the bastard likes having the back of his throat licked... I don't know what he'll do. Have a nice afterlife!)
Shub: I suggest you frighten her children and then get the F**k out of there! She'll have a hard time calming all of them down.
Have fun, and stay sane!
Be well and live free!
You can probably guess that's neither Hitler or Jun's father, despite what form he takes.
I feel that it is quite a good rendition of the Crawling Chaos, working as the "Shadow Side" of humanity.
The creepiest line would be what Nyarly did to poor Jun:
Nyarly: "Did I say something to offend you? You were the one who wished for me after all. You embraced the illusion of a perfect father. And that is why I am here. Just as you wished, I fufilled my role and played "Daddy" to suit your desires."
Goodness knows how long the Crawling Chaos has been creeping into that boy's life, twisting him for his own plans.
Creepy, but also kinda cool.
Welcome to Lovecraftian School, we have the best facilities, finest foods, and... rather odd teachers.
Staff List ( Work In Progress):
Headmaster: Mr A. Thoth
A man who seems to have trouble with his workload, he spends the majority of his time in his office, asleep, when he is awake he seems to be perpetually drunk.
Deputy Head: Mr N. Tepp
A strict science teacher with questionable methods for teaching students. His mere presence drives a chilling fear into the hearts of his students. He may be dark and threatening, but- beyond detentions- he is essentially harmless.
Librarian: Mr Y. Goth
A man with stunningly pink hair and thick glasses. He is very hard to surprise and does not tolerate people mistreating his books. His son also attends the school.
Art: Mr H. King
An eccentric art teacher who hides his face behind a mask painted with colourful patterns. He seeks his students to look inside themselves and find the energy of the universe that can be turned into patterns on a blank canvas.
P.E./ School Nurse: Ms N. Shrub/ Shub
A woman who keeps to herself, she works two jobs so she can obtain two paychecks . No student can tell how to pronounce her last name.
PLease comment, it lets me know that I'm appreciated here. Try and name who the teachers really are
Reading around, considering mythos, and taking a few little imaginative leaps, I have come to a conclusion:
We are his toys. Cultivated by him, for him.
It is he who keeps Cthulhu and his kin dreaming. He does so, so he may continue to play with us, crouch down and watch us, or just crush us- one. by. one.
The Mythos beings that we are... We see things- plans, pathways, ideas. Things other races do not.... Could that be why the Mi-Go so value our brains?
Currently we have no value within Lovecraft's universe, but- given time- we have the possibility to achieve greatness. Time we do not have, constantly being invaded, and having to deal with corrupt traitors of humans.
Fanfic: Only Human
Chapter 2: Memory of a Massacre
" A malign force echoed on the air and he spun to face the hall once more, standing by the oak doors stood a man in a pinstriped suit, black shirt underneath, crimson scarf draped loosely over his shoulders, hands in trouser pockets. He was laughing at him, finding something about him utterly amusing, glowing eyes narrowed as spine chilling chuckles of utter mania continued. Then he was gone, a shadow of a man that had faded back into the walls of the hall.
Lazarus had no idea who that was, but just looking at him chilled him to his bones, like he was... not supposed to exist. He felt like his bones were hollow."
I drew my inspiration for Nyarly from here (Look under antagonists, it's pretty obvious. XD)
Better him being in a "Lost Village" then being punched and slapped by Alex Gale's mother for "How dare you touch my son!" and otherwise bursting in when he's scared her (adult) son...
Be careful what you wish for...
Ok, so I was told by the Admin to post it here...
Obviously I'm not going to post the whole thing here, that would be stupid (and because it's not finished yet.)
"The sun set in the distance as Nathan Dawn stood on the top floor of the city hall clock tower, staring out at the beautiful landscape, he could only stay here a little while longer, he had to meet someone... That view was so beautfiul, maybe he should bring Alex here afterwards? He stopped to adjust his tie and fasten the buttons on the cuffs of his white shirt, his appearence was scruffy, but it was the best he could find after overlseeping. He needed to calm his nerves, then he could go and- A sharp pain in his throat. He took steps back, stepping into the shadows of the tower. 'AAAAAGGHHH!!!!' He opened his mouth in a piercing cry of agony as the skin of his hands began to disintegrate before his eyes, like fire coursing through his veins, burning through his body, he could see his skin burning! His head aflame with pain as it spead down his arms, he stumbled backwards, tripped over the railing and fell backwards, tumbling through space.
The picked clean, blackened skeleton was crushed amongst the gears of the tower. 'So sorry...' A smooth voice stated from the shadows. 'But you just wouldn't do. I on the other hand...'
He slowly watched the candle burn lower before taking a sharp gulp from the wine glass. Bitter stuff... But good for calming the nerves none the less. 'This is the last time... I ever agree to meet with someone from the Yog-Sothoth forums...' he muttered ruefully, remembering the fat, boil covered woman who had turned up last time, having clearly said she was of a slim, tanned figure. < A small hint, Alex; People. Lie.> Just encase it was another night of boil covered figures with rancid breath, Alex had brought polo mints with him. Another gulp of wine. He felt a presence behind him, as though a dark shadow had fallen across him and the table. Taking deep breath to prepare himself for the living nightmare, he turned around..."
Ooh, the suspense. Of course dear Alex might not be so far off the truth...
Ok, first blog... Hey everybody.
Not every cosmic horror, or preist is a dead ugly monstrosity.
Take Hastur for example; In my parodyfic; "Mask of the Yellow King" it's revealed he wears a mask because he's actually incredibly handsome, so much so that he could not walk amongst humans without them - looking once at his face- becoming seriously infatuated.
I'm writing another at the moment "Usless Fancies" , which is more "Lovecraft-Lite" than parody. Reasons so:
-Plenty of "Pet the Dog" moments from Nyarlathotep.
("PET THE DOG":
"You let one of them go, but that's nothing new. Every now and then, a little victim's spared... because she smiled, cos he's got freckles, cos they begged. And that's how you live with yourself, that's how you slaughter millions, because once in a while, on a whim, if the wind's in the right direction, you happen to be kind."
â€” The Doctor )
When writing Nyarly's character, I tend to look to Sutekh (Set) for smugness, and the entitlement to his power, and throw in some of Apep for the evil factor.
I shall tell you this, if you're promised a date, and the date turns up looking so utterly dazzling that you struggle to focus on anything else. Run. Just run. 'Cause it's Him, and maybe He'll spare you if you beg, maybe he'll keep you as a "Pet" if you continue to beg and listen to his whims.