Tropes that apply to Eldritchseer!
Tropes that others believe apply to me.
"The dream of the future you see dissolves... And with time, so does the apprehension. The world under the sun is no exception, and all you see around you evolves. New traits and things familiar can be sensed, but futile is hope without fruition. The grief you knew begets no vision. The happiness you felt becomes regret. Winter fades, and takes its cold and storm. Spring revives the world with love and warmth. But still, the law: All things decay and age. Vanity itself won't dry your tears. And so you fear, as your time draws near: The world will turn...but never change." "We never heard again once we departed – the sinner's prayers sound in discord... An earthly god's communion is reward from priests in temples never started. The dreams of madness change our saviour, we are as bees abandoned by the hive... Like the men of fallen Troy we now strive, and flames predict the time of our failure. By breathing gusts, we're led into solution, long paths unfolding; roads we've never walked – we stroll in blindness as a herdless flock. Rolling thunder, earth and lighting fusion, exploding fires of doubt and disdain... Our dream's meaning, the world will never gain." “Our dream's meaning the Earth will never dash. When morning murmurs, melded in single chorus, and silken dawns dissolve before us, the fowl's scythe will then be burned to ash. The rippling gray will crush to diamond dust the regrets drowned in the silent ocean, our spirits liberated by devotion. The false sun's glitter will fade at last. We are neither stunned by midday desert splendor, nor to the jewels our will surrenders. No: We are dead, for golden coin's sake. Enrobed in silken moon rays, we are dressed. For suns that shine at midnight, we are blessed...and at the darkest hour, we are awake.” “By suns that shine at midnight, we are blessed. Keen rays descend through mortared spires, the universe's races paced with fire, the nebulas, the stars, the voided depths, from Alpha Dog to Vega and to Beta, to Ursa Major and sad Pleotus... They cross the skies as sagely deities, creating planets like divine excreta. O dust of worlds, o pure holy swarm, I measured, checked, adapted, scaled, and formed, gave names to maps and specified the order, but starry horror will not let us go... It makes us call to foul, primal woe. When will we know the bliss of Laytah's water?” “Why don't I know the bliss of Laytah's waters? Why does my spirit cry into the night? It knows not the taste of burning spite, it pleads not to Satan's wily daughters. The circle is broken, and the chance, dispelled. While everyone is bathed in brilliant rays, rejoicing in the wine of passing days, we are drawn to lights beyond the blue sky's shell. The rustling grass, the shimmer of the swamps, a lazy wind plays out a vain romp, and carries the shade of Persephone to Pleotus, who gazes through the dust... Yet my spirit has a sad mistrust...crying, as I contemplate antiquity.” “A spirit cries, entangled by the weeds. They grew from seeds nourished by blackness. Their poison stuns. They bind in shackles, like horrors sealed in the pyramids. But neither fire-born marble nor granite can make a frame immune to the power of the flows of ageless primal lava that flows through our veins and fills us with might. The tomb of suns, the urn of dead world's ash... The corpse of moon and Saturn's lifeless flesh is set in mind and taken by the heart. In dying stars, life is born anew...but spirit's force is granted to a few, who hold life's transcendent pains apart.” “We hold life's transcendent pains apart, we bear grief and disappointment's fire, But the banner is our sorrow's ire, fluttering in the winds of the departed. We hold life's transcendent pains apart, we bear grief and disappointment's fire, But the banner is our sorrow's ire, fluttering in the winds of the departed. But the biting flames poison our spirit, singing spirits smothered by corpses, like Laocoon, tangled in knotted snakes, straining to break free, yet keeping silent. But no bliss will ever change this pain, the dignity of this restraint, the tension, this ecstasy of hopeless prison. For the balm of lifeless oblivion, we rain a grail of sorrows on the world, we exiles, wanderers, and poets...” “We exiles, wanderers, and poets, who yearned to be, but failed to become. Where birds have nests, beasts, their lairs, our lot is a staff and beggar's hovel. The duty has failed. The promises are broken. The path, unwalked. And our doom is nigh. Dreams of such roads drowning in a sigh of songs unsung and poems never spoken. In shards of will, it is so hard to find your own true self, so hard to confine the foolish pride, so hard to enter another's marquee, than to beg for bread... Hard for the vanguard's soul to render alive, that which never has been truly dead.” “They're not alive, but neither are they dead. They're deaf to words, and their touch is senseless. They're blunt to smell, and their pain is endless. Their doom, unaltered by any event, is sealed in darkness. But lightgiver Femus bestows the blind with overwhelming awe in sight of God, and the concealed cave is turned to Christmas den by holy vortex, the primal night, who bore him in her womb. The offspring sent to her by Mise, her father, is carrying her gifts to fateful brother, the one by solar rage was entombed, who has become the toy of fateless play... Who is alive, and destined to be fey.” "Entombed, he is destined to be fey, yet sun's hot bark is clear to his sight, from sepulcher that arises from midnight, he sees the land, wheat splayed in the rays. Mules approach, scythes crop, a flail beats the ear, rafts drift, beasts sleep, flitting birds make nests, and from his shroud's folds, he sees the fest of days and nights that spill into the years. Without joy, without tears and pain, he watches over humans' idle fates with no black thought, without asking why. Beyond existence, will, or any wish in knowing peace unknown to you or I... For to Earth, we are forever banished.” “Those, to Earth, who are forever hurled, cannot enjoy the vastness of the fields, as time, each passing moment, yields the dancing shadows of other worlds. The soul sees the flicker, far and vague as on the surface of this ancient regret. One tried to read the holy alphabet, but lost the pattern in his own plague... And so he walks the dust of earthly sod, in apostate, a self-forgotten god, and in things familiar he seeks forbidden codes. His flesh, immortal, is shrouded in flames, and to him...even death does simply nod. Him, who saw the dreams, and knew the names.” “The ones who saw the dreams and knew the names, who heard the grasses talking to each other... Who learned the will of their ancient father and listened to the songs of tidal waves... The ones whose souls have been purified, the ones harnessed to the pain of challenge... Who lit the mystic candles on the fringe, who became a purer shade of darkest nights... Who didn't squeeze their grape to sinful flass and didn't seek the joys of earthly leisure. Not in the priestess' dance nor in the pleasure... But who descended into Hell's morass to meet their shadow at the very bottom. They don't expect hearts with love to blossom.” “Above the rippling Surface waves, has grown a solemn, rocky highland built of bricks... With chasms black and floods of crimson rocks, and boundaries woeful of the land unknown... I see the dreams, so marvelously sad, the creaks of land so solid and encrusted... Where wave and tide upon shores are busted, while singing by the mournful twilight's bed. And canvas in the dark plies a quiet course, trembling with an ancient, mystic force...the force of wind and raspy, breathless ripple. In ways of constant dare and righteous struggle, my boat is led along by shearing tumult...and skies are lit...with starry, shining sparkle.”
Sh*t! The Balrog!
WHY DO I KEEP DIGGING IN THE PAGES!?!?! AAAAAAAAAAAH!
Why did you open this?
Fuck it, I'm writing them down. So, i have a vague remembrance of the beginning It took place is some rusty, metallic looking death trap, with flame throwers and robot galore, and my comrade and I were there looking for treasure. He get's killed rather early on, so I go it alone, and the I discover a room with a laser-mine Which is a mine that shoots lasers until it explodes, I blow it up, and I think I destroy most of the goodies in the room, how ever, and old monitor survives, and a fat, dirty man with a beard reveal that I was originally down there to go to a messy organic part of this flying city. To help with the leaders plan. I ask to look around a bit more, and he says he can wait. Now, some how, I come across a recording by a dead body, that records the leader saying this expedition is not to save the city, but to kill the New Men of the Forgotten Quarter (Some new evolution of humanity that came to be on the ship). So I rush back to the monitor, and tell the beard man what this is all really about, and he is absolutely appalled, in disbelief at first, but then I let him hear the recording. He says we must go to the Pore (The organic part) to destroy the project's resources, so we should pretend to go along for now. So the room itself rises up, and links in with an aircraft, which begins to fly us over to the Pore, which is at the bottom of the city, so we didn't seem much of the city itself. And then the walls were torn off the vehicle and we were surrounded by flying mech's, while the leader flew in on a jetpack. He mentioned how he was disappointed in us, and how he expected us to understand that the New People were pigs. He then laughed, as the beard man jumped off the vehicle, as it was now close to the ground, and I attempted to murder the leader, however, he was to quick, and flew off, I jumped off... And then gravity broke. The surface city was much more similar to Columbia then the small bit I saw from the sky. As in, there had four large wood spires with gold trimmings surrounding a beach, with lots of party thing around, it was all very nice looking, and they seemed to be having a game where you guess The Infinite Number, which no one ever guesses. And there are very strange, ornate flying machines the sky, one of which seems to cause the leader some difficulty, causing him to land a city in the distance So I land, and gravity resumes working, and I'm left wondering why it broke. And then being determined to hunt down the leader. End Dream
So I'm reading a CMOA page on tv tropes, about some work of fiction. So I decide. "Hmmmmmmmm... let's look into this." Cue me looking into it. So this girl is in a car, with an old man, driving through an icy tundra. They eventually reach a cabin, and he spouts cryptic non-sense. She open the weird folding doors, and see the place is way bigger on the inside, and it is now a sprawling building. in the middle of the crossroads between corridors, there is a small wooden booth with folding doors, she closes the doors to the building and enters the booth. Enter two people in bell boy garb outside, they're muttering about how someone ordered soup, and how the guy with the soup will get here soon. Enter humpty dumpty, carrying a tray of fifty bowls of soup. For some reason, I think he was in a managerial position. Humpy Dumpty apologizes for being late, and says "Poor guy, I bet hes hungry up there, without his soup." One of the bells boys says, "I know what you mean." The booth begins going up. They treat that as if they had missed the elevator, and begin grumbling and tapping their feet and such. The girl takes out a doll of black beard, and stares at it. Confused, since she doesn't own that doll. In any case, she sees several floors go by, and then she sees the big bad wolf and several more bell boys having an argument over a few spilled bowls of soup. So the elevator stops at a floor with the lights out, and she walks in. I only vaguely remember that something like Kirby from There Will Be Brawl lectured her, and creeped her out. But she got back into the booth, and went up. After a while, the doll of black beard emitted a nursery rhyme. "And if the sun never comes up... Then your luck is up..." It is referring to the black beard doll, which has now become a doll of an eldritch zombie pirate, she is unsettled, and hurls the thing down to the bottom floor. And exits the booth, on to another light less floor. There, a little girl in a creepy fuckin' mask berates her for throwing the doll, and then runs off. So the girl who we're following sits down in a cubbard with a light on, and to her left is the creepy girl, only without her mas, and instead slasher smile, and beginning to resemble our girl, and to her left is the kirby creature, who muses "If she is taking on traits from you, perhaps you are taking traits from her?", the creepy girl only chuckles, and the other girl just looks very distressed. END DREAM.
So there is a cabin at the lake (Which really does exist), and through the open kitchen leads into a stone-y labyrinth bathed in orange and green light. Some bird creature dies at the mouth of the labyrinth and suddenly there is some mess with time lines an endings, and we mention that if an elk outside dies, some woman is coming to cut us up with a cleaver. An elk outside dies, just after I lock the door. The woman kicks open the door, and no one notices as she chases me into the living room, where she slits my throat with a cleaver. END DREAM
I remember one dream that was interesting to me. There was some sort of claustrophobic, dark, medieval fort/castle, that was under siege by an army of men in elaborate uniforms, kaiser helmets, and the identical, pale faces. They launched spheres of fire everywhere, and I was attempting to escape, I ended up in some secret passage way, in which three people, two men, and one woman, in ratty leather coats were consorting about how to find a stash of weapons and treasure, and I had the distinct impression they had sold out the city. Apparently there was now a large bomb about to go off, so I ran through the tunnels, while the other three examine a glyph on the wall, which unveiled a secret room full of guns, ammunition, and explosives. It ended up exploding in their faces. I had found a clean looking steal door, which was funny considering the decrepit Victorian sewer feel of the passages, though the door, was a bunker, which was pristine, full-on Ascetic Aesthetic, with a heavily make-up'd fat woman cleaning about with a vacuum. Outside, it was day, with a lush field and a few trees outside. END DREAM
So it played out like a game. There was what I assume was a shooting at this muesum apartment-ish place, and our thugggish hero, and his doctor friend are looking around, while the police are doing an inspection of the crime scene. Suddenly, a corpse outside takes a chomp out of a person outsides neck. Suddenly all of them re-animate, and we follow a cop with a mustache for a while, he kicks ass, hard, and goes for head shots, but then he gets bitten from behind, after a zombie talks, "i'm in pain!", he shoots it in the face and says "Ya fuckin' think!?" and shoots himself. The thug and the doctor are on one of the upper floors when thugs in skull masks and all gray outfits attack, the ones on the ground floor used guns, the ones every where else charged like psychos. The thug just head shots them quickly, but then and the next floor down, they become nigh-invulnerable and just keep taking bullets, it eventually goes down, but it was a pain. Things get fuzy and the ground floor, but one was taller than the rest and was a beast, slowly walking towards you, just soaking up bullets. And then I remember waking up in a dark courtyard of buildings in somewhere tropical, China was going to war with the US with Russia aiding them in two days, and everything had a distinct 80s/90s feel. Someone had been harboring chinese and russians agents and was taken under arrest. END DREAM
This one was set in some grand palace, had the strangest feeling of having been there before, as if it were a staple of my life. It was a heist, for something like the Thieves Guild, they were all calling it the heist of the century, I was on a rising platform with them, we arrived in a large room, full of imperial guardsmen, all standing in front of a large door at the front of the room, while two unguarded doors went to the right and left. I had a feeling killing too many guard would implicate us in this too much, and that we should sneak about. If failed, they noticed us quickly, and charged, we killed them all. Next room. We ventured to find a room with a large pit in the middle. But it had been desecrated, the physics were warped, the halls was were non-elucidian and twisting every which way. It was burning, collapsing. The nobles were mad, roaming the halls with blades, taking as much of their old riches as they could carry. While the mad Emperor droned on about this history of this place. By this I mean that the room was burning, along with most other things. There we bits and pieces of ornate metal everywhere, and the Emperor wouldn't shut up about "And This was divined by Maximus, to his son Feldraeus." like a tour guide. In the main room, there was a noble who still retained loyalty to the Emperor, and lead the charge against us, while the Imperial Metalworker retreated back, closer to the gap. They failed to stop us, by the nearly killed the priest/mage who looked like Martin Septim, and nearly knocked his head into a fallen bit of rotating blade work. The Metalworker retreated to a giant disk of spinning blades, that was sprialling along rails up a gap in the ceiling. I followed him, and we dueled as he lectured me about my failures. And how the only thing awaiting up there for my fate was death. I killed him by knocking him off the disk to his death, and arrived at the top floor shortly after, a distance away from the Emperor's Throne. END DREAM
it's game of thrones related, and it's a dream so it takes place at the very end of the series, a lot of characters are dead, and yet, somethinng mystical happens, at a grave yard way in the north, outside a small village called "Slope" or "Haven" or "Solace" or something like that. It zooms in on the grave stone of a man named "Lord Craster" (Ha ha, it's funny because Craster is an asshole wildling0 and then zooms in on a bunch of other gravestones, like catlyn stark, robb stark, samwell [SOMETHING], Gilly and her baby, [THAT ONE GUY WHO HAS TO MARRY A FREY DAUGHTER WITH ROBB]. And then, suddenly, they're all standing there, alive and well. Everyone is overjoyed to see each other, and then the shot pans to the right, and there's a modern day casino very close to the graveyard. Along with a street and some street lamps. They investigate a bit. END DREAM.
So Hawthorne!Cloud is having strange dreams every night, I don't know how the rest happened, but it did. A guy and a man with a light Swedish accent infiltrate his dreams, coming into a dark dungeon area, they begin their trek up the dark place, which is always ascending and built into a shadowy mountain. They ask what's and the top, and Cloud says he's never reached it. They ask why, and he says something stops him. Later, a thing that looks like a floating black skull begins hunting the Swedish Guy down, he curses in fear and then they were out of there. Cloud says that if you do things like curse, it removes you from there, he claims he thinks the castle is giving him a way out to make sure he grows, and wants to reach the top. They go back in, and they encounter the skull again, they tried to escape it, but it was too fast, and the Swedish Guy was about to swear when it caught up with him. The only thing the other guy heard was his screams of agony, so he cursed right before the skull came after him. They were now in a gray, foggy field, there was a pile of gore in the center, Cloud says that if you die in the dream, it, well, does that. They re-enter, and are now in a different part of the castle, with a creepy little girl with pits for eyes standing in the doorway, she leaps onto the guy, and starts twisting his head around, she stops, and notes he doesn't have any bites, so she has no reason to kill him. He then meets some Jawa-Looking things that are cloaked in fancy red robes, they're incredibly Xeno-phobic, and scream at him until he leaves. He then leaves the castle, and is now outside in a large, decaying cyber-punk-esque place, there is a massive space station above everything, and they say it is populated with the Jawas, or as they say, Celestials, who abandoned them, trying to keep them out. This place reaches out a bit to the rocks orbiting the station, which are like the slums, since they are routinely attacked by the Celestials. END DREAM.
So it's about some of the last levels of Knock Knock, now completely different. The world outside the cabin is full of sand, a vast and endless desert, and the lodger is wearing some kind of gas mask, mumbling about how this was caused by whatever darkness terrorizes him, I get the feeling that the clock counts down to destruction. Then, the next night, the world is gone, only total darkness outside, the house is full of dark green fumes and the lodger still wears his gas mask, patrolling his house, the dream ended when the clock hit zero. END DREAM
Amber, rapture of wilderness, chaos of maelstroms, bone-breaking laughter, rider of the Vortex's edge, open to the heart of thy lowly servant. To the righteous will of the seeker of thine guidance, heed. Meet blood with blood, taboo breaker. Bind! Crushing flesh, twisting mind, constrict! Feed your thirst, bury him underhill, kill! Formidable Azure, approaching storm, bringer of Death, searing whip, executioner's blade, open to the heart of thy lowly servant. To the one approaching as storm, cutting as axe, rising as Death, to me praying to thee, answer. My foe to the depths of pain, into the Vortex of suffering, throw. While you Torture tear him from within, be slow. When he cries out to thee, his voice begging mercy, be silent. Crimson, furious, color of avengers and prophets, banner of the righteous, essence of blood, grant power to thy warrior messenger. Me, thy faithful warrior messenger, recall. Sharpen my blade, my strike with thy destructive might, provide. Blood and nerve from my foes' sinews, yield. Guide the edge of my sword, my target - slay. Emerald, heavy and viscous as tar, enveloping canopy, invulnerable shield, arbiter of scales, bestow thy power to this venerable warrior. To me, who raised the vengeful hammer, listen. Fiendish plot of the heretic, who dares resist, twist. His treacherous soul, chaotic and insane, banish. Cold-blooded Argent, unbendable backbone, treasury of the forsaken kingdom, patron of the takers, strenghten thy servant. The one who listens to thee, searches for thee, and is blindly obedient, shall be answered. The skin of the Keeper, his tendons, ligaments, and muscles, shall be hardened. His heart, open to Lympha of all colors, shall be warmed. Wasters of all colors who dare to give, shall be tortured. Violet, vibrant chameleon of colors, mysterious tale, lair of the Arcane, come to my core, aid in my vengeance, battling a hideous, wicked, unfamiliar foe, help me. By lies and deceit, the one who challenges my righteousness, shall die. The one who watched me, in hope of exposing my weakness, be blind. His color shall fail, his hammer shall fall, his voice - shall quiver.
Fallen London... The Musical!
-To The Neath!-