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| 05:28am 19/11/2006 |
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Cthulhu Rose: Entropy
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Mighty Cthulhu rose, he came to us first in our dreams. The artists, the dreamers, the seekers. He sought us out, found us with fierce hunger. He wanted us and shattered everything. I woke. The light through the windows of the blinds was staggered, warm, I slid under the blanket and slapped the alarm. I had decided I would sleep in until Molly spoke. “Get your lazy ass up.” She stood five six of sexy in a pair of shorts and one of my shirts, hand on her hip and no time for me and my cushion of comfort. So, grudgingly I crawled forth from from the comfort of my futon to the cruel, cruel world. I trudged towards Molly like a zombie. “mmmmmmm…..noookie…nooookie!” She slapped me playfully upside the head. “Get a shower, jerk, I am making breakfast.” “Really? Right fucking on!” I made for the bathroom, and did the shower and other s words, and hopped out, into clothes and was ready to go. Molly true to her word had some scrambled eggs and a bit of melon. I smiled blessings at her as I tucked in to the food. “You ready for today?” She slid down on the other side of the table with a plate for herself. I thought about my paintings, uninspired largely. “I suppose, as much as I can be.” “What sort of attitude is that? You’ve got to grab that fucker.” Molly jabbed at me with a fork containing egg and a bit of salsa, “make it your own.” She finished her statement with a lavish bite, then continued. “Seriously Jason, you’re a decent artist, quit this wishy washy stuff. The professors will read it on you. Man up bitch!” She complemented the last with a glare. She stood up, “ got to get dressed, clean this up.” Which I did, after finishing up. I washed the plates to the sounds of Molly in the shower. I was racking the last plate then found myself getting a kiss on the cheek. “Knock them out baby.” And then Molly was gone. |
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| 05:32am 18/11/2006 |
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---
We're going in a new direction, with Cthulhurose reborn, the story of 'I' (he never really had a name did he?) poor baby, is kinda done. We need to look somewhere else, when Mighty Cthulhu Rises, take a different track. I have some one else to torture and overwhelm, more quiet-like, but the Unholy rises just the same, and the world disintigrates, just the same. But on a slightly different wavelength.
Cthulhu Rose: Entropy |
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| 03:36am 12/11/2006 |
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Await
there will be more.
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| 09:36pm 25/09/2005 |
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**************
Writer guy interjection. I am obviously stalled out here. I had a destination for our boy but getting there has become problematic. He is looking at a situation down the road, but I am having trouble approaching it, I am having trouble getting back into the mind set of 'I' our narrator. I can get there in fits and starts but the person that started writing this grim tale and myself have become two different people. I wish that guy had finished this story for you, although I do like where he ended up at. Should this just be left open ended or should it continue I guess I am asking you. If you want more, I will try to find the voice that started this in the first place.
Dear readers do I let this stand or work more on it? I will leave it to your vote.
*************** |
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| 03:20am 02/09/2005 |
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I realize the addictive reality of this world. There is no law, obviously I am late to the party on that one, but there is nothing, no consequences for my actions. I had to pull into the shadow of a flipped over semi when that one hit me. The crowd with knives back in Omaha knew that one from go. But, after some thought, I understood something else, if there is no law; everything, every action I took was a lot more important. I had to be the policeman of myself, because I believed in order, even in the face of all this.
I fired up the bike a little more determined and lit off. But it was short lived, two semis were parked nose to nose blocking the highway and men with guns walked the top of them. I know they spotted me, because I was rolling up a flat stretch of highway, they were pointing and obviously talking to one another. I stoped a fair peice away and got the shotgun, chambering a round.
Trust wasn't a big one for me these days, not since the college kids. |
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| 12:52am 30/07/2005 |
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I'm bleary, I've rode on the cop's bike with what feels like forever. I rode over the edge of the valley and fog pooled like swamp. I was getting to the mighty missip. Who gives a godamn. I was rolling and out of Kansas City and out of Omaha and fucking free.
I went wild under the grey sky, shot guns off, attracted attention, did everything impossibly stupid. I rolled into the barren road past Columbia like an idiot.
And like an idiot I stopped. Amid the pinging of the bike cooling down I heard screaming from Memphis. Thank God I was distant. Although I was carring less and less about God now. This was more fear and run.
I fired the bike up and ran hot south. Fuck this. I'd get to Memphis and beyond. I had to get out from under these greenish-grey clouds and still air. |
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| 01:20am 07/05/2005 |
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Other Projects You Might Be Interested In:
A Cthulhu Rose Universe WorlBook for Call of Cthulhu.
We take the C-Rose Universe and make it gameable. Anyone could be "I". Making the world Falling Apart a game situation. I've got some ideas, I'd be willing to fire up a yahoo group for discussion and play testing. Throw me an email if interested. |
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| 01:59am 08/04/2005 |
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Early draft of Radio Free Cthulu Act One:
day one 05:29am 11/09/2004
Narriation start: Mighty Cthulhu rose, and madness followed. We all felt in our dreams at first. Uncomfortable, vague sensing that bad things were on the way. I remember waking in my apartment in Nebraska dreaming of the sea. During the day as I went to work, I noticed people acting differently. Some walked as if in the grips of somnombulance, a dazed expression and jerky movements, as if they were constantly startled. Others had an almost manic frenzy about them, pursuing some unknown goal. I walked the few blocks to my office building and found the place deserted. Phones were ringing[ [noise ringing, nooise office sounds], but the receptionist had a glazed look about her.
Narrator: “Kathy?”
Kathy: “Uh, yeah…”
Narrator: “You ok? Need some coffee or something?”
Kathy: “No, I’m fine I was just thinking about this dream I had…”
[sounds of phones ringing, muted office conversations, like you would expect.]
Narrator: I snapped my fingers in front of her eyes, she didn’t respond. What the hell? I walked to my cube. Almost the second I sat down my phone rang.
[ring]
Narrator: “Hello?”
Voice: “It’s all winding down.”
Narrator: “What?”
Voice: “It’s all winding down and us with it.”
Narrator: “What do you mean?”
Voice: “You know what I mean.”
Narrator: I looked around, the place was half deserted, Thomas from inventory was standing at the water cooler letting all the water in it pour out on the floor [noises, then scream],
The conference room! I stood up and saw the blinds were down and there was a red smear on the glass inside.
[bustle and noises muted yelling then a muted scream]
Narrator: I had the phone in my hand and slowly put it back up to my ear.
Voice: “You see?”
Narrator: “See what?”
Voice: “You’ll see soon.”
[buzz, thunk sound]
[foot steps]
Narrator I listened at the conference room door.
Gruff Voice: “Hol her!
Narrator: Danvers?
Weasely Voice: I got her leg!
Narrator: Cummings?
Woman’s Voice: Stop!
Narrator: Gretchen from Accounts. I smashed the door open [crash] they had her down on the table, clothes half off. [gruntings terrible rape sounds] Simms from Outbound Data Traffic had her down grunting and sweating.
Narrator: Hey!
[thunk, heavy meat being hit sound. Another thunk to the floor, a break]
Narrator: Ow, fuck. Huh? (like he is coming to.)
Narrator: the room was black, heavy mop smell, They put me in the closet. My arm hurt, felt like I was bit.
...
(didn't want you guys to think I was completely bullshitting you.) |
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| 08:29pm 29/01/2005 |
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I'm rewriting the office and theater bits in a radio play format. It's weird, I've been loking at old radio drama scripts and trying to re hammer the early bits into the same. But the details my friends...the details....
I think I've got an ally with a good audio studio and I can find voice talent. I have a vision, stand with me:
RADIO FREE CTHULHU
With website intact, cthulhu radio drama on the net, how cool would that be?
The problem is the end my friends, the end.
It haunts me, I know where he is driving to, but how to tell all of you and what he sees on the way, well that is the problem isn't it? |
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| 12:20am 02/01/2005 |
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I'm going to rewrite the first bit of this as a radio style play, I've decided. I have a friend that has as a sttudio sort of set up. I think re-inventing this part of Cthulhu Rose will help me write out the rest of it. I need, need like creepy poison in my viens to bleed out, need to write the rest of it. So maybe reworking the front of it will unleash that dark magic.
So, wait up CR fans, you might have some of the same old dark muse in a different format. |
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| 01:27am 31/12/2004 |
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Obviously I would like to call what we have seen:
Omaha to Kansas City; Highway Cthulu One.
This is the Change point, aphelion. It should all be contained in a group of fiction..plus sweet,sweet illustration, plus a read.
The Yellow Sign Demands no less. |
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| 01:22am 31/12/2004 |
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Hey Nash do you have the bandwith if I do a reading of Cthulhu Rose? And what format should all current reading appear?
Speaking of current appear, what a fun comic, tell your artists pigs.
Speaking ot current appear, email me Tyson, Mississippi...
and we'll see what happens down the road...
-Writer-thulhu |
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| 03:32am 26/12/2004 |
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>>Author aside, I'm thinking about doing an audio version of this, going back and reading the episodes aloud, does that sound like a good idea? Many of these bits I speak aloud after I type them out just to hear the flow of words. Would you all be interested in this? I've been told I have a good speaking voice and for a brief time did radio. I certainly know the cadence and gravity of what I am trying to say. I suppose hosting would be the only challenge.<< |
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| 11:51pm 25/12/2004 |
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I was starting to realize I had cris crossed the same streets many times. same empty store fronts, the same empty homes. I filled my bike from the tanks of abandoned gas stations. The fog made sound strange, I would think I heard some one, then ride down the street to find empty houses, grills in the drive way, long dead coals with rotten meat on the metal.
What happened here? At least in its madness and violence Omaha was still alive.This place was...consumed. I moved further and further south during my exploration, but the deadness of the place, the empty made me loose track of where I was and I'd find myself north or east of where I had started from.
It was easy to resupply here, nothing was guarded. I grabed a 9mm Baretta and 100 rounds from an empty pawn shop. Some camping gear from an equally deserted sporting goods store. That thankfully, was at the southern end of the foglands. I looped around the city over dead roads and found I-70 east. I thought I might catch that and then the highway back south again. Cross Missouri, the heart of whatever country this had become. As I rode down the high way I reached the edge of the fog, past it smashed crowed roads. Behind me, the blank wall. A clear dividing line between the timeless place behind me and the ruined world ahead. Back there I could have slept forever.
It felt better to be out of it. |
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| 03:31am 25/12/2004 |
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Kansas City was a tomb. The fog was everywhere. I slid down I-29 like a ghost. The airport was empty. The highways were empty. This was the big nothing. The highways were free of cars. Empty roads right into the heart of the place. I cruised back and forth through the north part of the city looking for signs of life, habitation.
I took another off ramp just to look around. Nothing. All the houses had doors and windows wide open. The air had a hot clammy feel. And silent. The stillness of the place was a tangible thing. It fell on me in waves. Inescapable, relentless silence. My motorcycle seemed unbelievably loud wherever I went...
Nothing was alive, not cat or dog or fish.
Nothing.
I fell asleep on a barstool and woke up what felt like eons later, a door had slammed. I ran to the back of the place, and saw it was a freezer door closing shut from weight against a can. Still, in all this empty, any sound not caused by me felt like some sort of salvation. I should have been greatful, for a change nobody wanted me dead, but the fog, with visibilty 15 feet at all times, and the stillness of the city started to get to me.
I dreamed of the symbol from the theater ticket. I dreamed of my office, lost, back then. I dreamed and felt like I had slept for a century, but my watch showed only a few minutes. I went by my watch. I quit sleeping in the beds of strangers and drove down town. The engine of my bike roaring in a place that seemed to have dedicated itself to silence.
I broke all those covenants. I felt no loyalty to silence, this place, nothing. I was as empty as the world wrapped in fog. I needed to keep moving south. |
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| 01:30am 19/12/2004 |
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The dense fog was...dense.
The dim lines of the city were laid bare to me as I drove down the empty freeway. Cars stood off to either side, like they were making way. |
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| 10:28pm 11/12/2004 |
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As far as I could tell a wall of fog surrounded the city. Surrounded me.
I was no place on this highway. It was all vast grey void ahead of me on Highway 29. I had nothing behind me, no job, no solace. The visions of moving trees. The fog seemed to mean something, nothing, everything. I drove ito it and again...
nothing.
This was an empty town. The highways devoid of cars, the side streets, empty. There was nothing here. No people...nothing.
I pulled off on a pass and went into a bar, neon lights on. No one there. The air was cold, I coould see my breath, but empty. I went into the next shop, a stichery that did embriodery work, empty, cold.
The parking lot of the strip mall was carless.
Where are the people? Where are the cars. Why is this place so fucking cold?
I hopped on my bike and drove down empty grey freeways. (The sky was grey as well, as if thick smog). I drove down town. Empty, faint smell of coffee in the air, that it. I stopped n the parking lot of a resteraunt near down town. The spikes of the place shot up into the grey still air.
I shudered.
The empty ghost of the place was all around me, I found the highway south. The lights of Kansas City lit for no apparent reason. Not a car on the road, everything perfect. This was a town parked in time.
And the lights were on. Stop lights, lights in stores. But no people. Everyone had been sucked out of this place. As I rode through, everything was cold and empty, and I went down 35 south I saw the opposite wall of fog, a boundry. A town of almost a million people, all gone behind me.
Nothing. I rode into the fog. |
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| 07:51pm 04/12/2004 |
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I took the highway south.
Everything had been taken from me. Trust, belief, everything.
I rode my motorcycle down the highway. The road looked blasted clear. Like something had tear assed before me. Cars were in ditches, semis knocked aside. It was like it had been made for me. It was made for this trip, this time.
Some destination.
I didn't ask why. I watched fields, some mashed flat. Convienance store off the road, smoke from previous fires sliding up to the greenish clouds. I saw the dream of midwestern America blow away like some sort of chaff. The world I rode through, headed down Highway 35 was empty and that empty filled me. After all the madness, all I had seen. I had this, the empty highyway.
The empty road, greenish sky.
I thought about the yellowish squigle mark, was I marked? She said I was marked by another, with fire and chaos behind her. Is this strange place I find myself in now a question of ownership? All I felt was the low gas hum of the bike between my thighs. Am I owned some how? Was the ticket in the theatre a brand?
I refused to accept that.
Ahead was Kansas City. A fog surrounded the place. I stopped my bike and looked. A dense fog demarcated the highway. There was road, then...nothing greyish soup.
I thought then,
I am my own man, I will go into this of my own free will, I am claimed by nothing, nobody calls me master. I fired my bike up. I rode into the fog. |
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| 10:14pm 26/11/2004 |
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More apocalypse next Wednesday!
We are working on the demon brew. |
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