𓆃 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.

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He smiled fondly, tracing his hand over the stony surface, letting the bright bioluminescence shine through his skin like x-rays.

"... I think they like you, too."
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And as he promised, talkative they were. Babbling in languages even she couldn't understand, intonations that sounded almost reverent as he followed her in.

"I know. They are of Earth, but have been touched by the lifeblood of Yuggoth. Very precious... irreplaceable."
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"Well... at the very least, I can show you these."

He stepped aside, holding a hand out to show the mouth of a cave... glistening with webs of shining roots and sweet-smelling fungal caps.

"Remnants of a simpler time."
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"Beautiful... and perfect..."

He closed his eyes, lost in fond remembrance.

"Unbound explosions of life. Limitless potential... ruled by lords who were worthy of its grace."
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"Nature will always win out. No matter what man does to the planet, when they die, life will still flourish. It's only a matter of how many species they take to the grave with them... stubborn creatures."

He sighed.

"Things were simpler when the Great Old Ones held the line of balance..."
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"Well, I meant ecologically, but... yes. That too."

He too smiled softly, as if it were something as casual as the weather.

"Man often needs to be humbled. To learn their place in the universe. Coaxing them to destroy themselves is... more delicious than simply destroying them outright."
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— but the god seemed to stop and listen, enthralled. A serene expression on his face, eyes fluttering lightly.

"... Horrible things happened here. Horrible..."

He trailed off as he continued pacing, seeming none too perturbed about the revelation.
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Daniel's reaction brought him some amusement. Not enough to keep him from wandering, immediately fixated on exploring their new surroundings.

"Journalists ought to be trained in tact, no?"

He traced a sharp nail over the television set, and it flickered to life. Only static of course, —
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He calmly ushered the vines on them back to their trellis, giving a nod as he descended deeper into the maze.

"The niche that fungi fill is very similar to my own... I admire them."
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i am a creation
both haunted and holy

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Happy #SmileSunday !!!
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A duplicate has already appeared gingerly held between his fingers, another sip taken as he waves a hand dismissively.

"But it would undermine your earlier point, yes. Now kindly take your appalling aroma elsewhere– you somehow stink worse than a regular mammal."
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They were both magpie-brained too! His were mostly gold, decorated with red, green, and purple gems... that changed hues when the light reflected across their facets.

"I like the taste of things. And this body does require sustenance. It's just... impossible to interfere with my mental state."
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If empathy were his strong suit, he might be able to relate. Finding the silence bothersome, he fidgets with his sleeves, twists the rings on his fingers.

"Some do. If you're asking if it has any effect on me, then... no."
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His brows knit, baffled at the audacity–

"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡."

A flick of his fingers, and the glass explodes into tiny shards.
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"Well, there is a first time for everything, isn't there?"

Sly grin. Long sip.
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Most don't have to draw it out for phonetic emphasis!

"Oh, don't get so ruffled about it– it might just be your voice, actually. Gods help you."
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𝙎𝙣𝙧𝙠.

"You sound 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴."
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His lip curls a little– he's not the biggest fan of those– but the curiosity about the possibility of such a coupling overrides his mild disgust.

"I see."

Blinking twice, he then closes his eyes, sighing through his teeth.

"... I am an Outer God. One of the first. The aspect of Chaos."
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Let's hear it then!
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Lestat probably cannot even pronounce anomalous.
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Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't! Who knows!

Right now his head is buried in his book.
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His is already different, but he's not responsible for defining what is and is not anomalous...
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He is a Thing which is extranormal to this world... a violation of the natural order.
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He's been told he's very perceptive! Especially when it comes to things that 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜.
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Raises a brow.

... Returns to casually sipping his wine.
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ㅤ🦖
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// p.s. for anyone looking for cosmic horror crumbs, "THE EMPTY MAN" is a solid nyar story!

some scenes take that corny "peepee poopoo man" approach for general audiences/trailer fodder– but the latter half especially is still chillingly effective and a GREAT example of how natty's cults operate!

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— "𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯."

Seconds wind back like a spool of thread, and he leans in close to whisper in Wiggly's ear.

"Steel your rage. You are in control of it, not vice versa. Allow yourself to savor this... keep her alive until all the pieces are in place."
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In an instant, everything freezes– the realization that Natty had calmly lain a hand on his son's shoulder coming later than it should. With everything silent, a gentle, windy thrum can be distantly heard... his smile carving an impression of distortion in reality that refuses to fade. —
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