Cosmic Funnies
NASA
EXPECTATIONS
π
@theartofmadeline
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
I'd rather be in outer space πΈ
almost home
Fai_Ryy
Game of Thrones Daily
untitled
π©΅ avery cochrane π©΅
todays bird
oozey mess
wallacepolsom
ojovivo
we're not kids anymore.
pixel skylines
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@eboffizier-ml
[CLASSIFIED]
Evidenzbureau Employee Dossier
Name: Maximilian Leopold / Marianne Louise
Age: βββββββ
Gender: βββββββ
Branch: Fifth Section, Occult Research, in βββββββ
Rank: Head Information Officer ββ ββ ββββ β / ββ ββββ / βββ βββ βββ ββββ
[END OF DOCUMENT]
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A Hunter's Evening
It's a lonely night, To spend in fright, But I am home Looking for a bite.
Nothing in the cellar, Nothing in pantry, So I'll set my sights down, From the gantry.
There is a man, Lonely and sad, But soon enough, He'll be running like mad.
Through the alleys and the street, But someone who helps, He never will meet.
In a coup de grace after the game, His blood will flow all the same. Through the cobbles and the dirt, Staining his sweaty and old white shirt.
Excerpt from "Ferality and Vampirism", Unknown author, published in 1889.
The poem is dated to the early 18th century.
The Crisis
We have an arrow barrage heading towards us from the east. The Japanese have finally decided to try their luck at this dangerous game. Tensions have been high, but my work cannot be ended by such a folly.
Our net is detecting at least ten launches, some of which are targeting KolozsvΓ‘r, Pressburg, Agram, etc... The Kaiser, always a diplomat, sent a call to the embassy to clarify the situation. No reply for 10 minutes...
The Sumatra crisis has been looming in the mind of the world for a month and, with recent losses in the Philippine sea, they seem ready to link themselves to the mortal struggle.
1 minute until Launch
No orders from Wien. No message and no communication aside from chatter. They might be crossed out already. We are moving to maximum preparations. Silos are open and bombers are in the air.
30 seconds until Launch
Still no information aside from radar readings. The long range missile operators have been set to maximum readiness. The keys and codes are ready for a momentary launch. This might be really it.
10 seconds until Launch
No contact from adjacent stations or the Kaiserliches und KΓΆnigliches Strategisches Kommando. I am not a religious person, but this might be the time for a prayer. May the One above us forgive this.
5 seconds until Launch
I confirmed the order. I hope that I'm not wrong.
Keys have been turned and the shells are in the air. I don't know if I'll survive this.
Gott erhalte unsern Kaiser, unsern guten Kaiser...
FΓΌnf Sekunden...
Vier Sekunden...
Drei Sekunden...
Zwei Sekunden...
Jetzt starten...
[?????: @eboffizier-ml] ... ONLINE. [ACQURING_ACCESS:] ... [β.........] [ACQURING_ACCESS:] ... [ββ........] [ACQURING_ACCESS:] ... [βββ.......] [INVALID_PERMISSION] [INITIATING LOCKOUT] [PREVIOUS_COMMAND_OVERWRITTEN] ... ... ...
[INCOMING TRANSMISSION]
Well, this is not the most optimal outcome, yet I am willing to reach out properly now. My apologies for the intrusion. I simply needed some information which I believe you may have. Surely, you understand. As compensation and reparation, I am willing to offer you a file from my personal collection. I do hope you enjoy and reach out. Don't be a stranger... Your soon to be associate, Marianne Louise 198β ... ... [FILE_BEGIN]
Document No. 3ββββββ [CLASSIFIED]
Primary information Classification: Event Sub-category: Witness report of Marko Nikolitsch Date: ββββββββββ Office reported to: Neusatz, Voivodeship of Serbia
[Transcript of notes]
I lived a simple life for a simple man. I don't know what I saw or, well, didn't see... I hoped you could help me. I can't say I like you people the most, but I didn't know who else to turn to. Working the docks was hard and honest work. Carrying bags all day and having a drink after it. Grain was the commodity most exported from our little harbor, with barges the size of buildings carrying it off to every point of the Empire. Some crownlands found it easier to manage their deals directly, rather than work through middlemen and traders. One of these was Bohemia, which built the largest warehouse on the banks of the lower Danube right here, in Neusatz.
Our exports were vast even before these Czech bureaucrats and Imperial men came, but their demand orders were far larger than previous ones ever were. With how much they carried off to their cities and factory towns, you'd be surprised that any grain was even left here.
The work got harder, but the pay increased as well, so I didn't complain. My supervisor, a fat and short Sudeten German named Fritz. I don't like you Germans myself, but even I would call him a crude caricature. He once called me to his office and said that he was impressed with my diligence, so he wanted to promote me to shift leader. Hesitant, I asked more about him and he said that he used to work for a coal mine, but an accident involving a mine collapse and deaths during it basically shut the whole operation down by the government.
I was hesitant, stating my lack of experience and hiding my desire to see him as little as possible. Sternly, Fritz said that it was either that or losing my job. Now, I have a family to feed, so the option was quite clear. After some rudimentary instruction on how the cranes work, I was now a shift leader. This didn't mean that I was a pencil pusher, but it was less intense than before. It seemed like smoother sailing, until that day...
I was standing over an empty grain container, which was due to be filled, before being carried over to the barges. There was a sudden push from behind me. It was a quick fall to the metal floor, but I didn't have time to look at the person or thing that shoved me down before I was completely covered in corn grains.
The sudden weight of the maize felt crushing, but at least it was over quickly. I could still breathe and try to move, so I believed that with a little bit of work, I would be free to beat whoever cursed me to this into a puddle. Then, the pressure grew. It was heavier and heavier. Trying to free myself, I swam upwards. I swam and swam and swam... The pressure was becoming crushing and I soon became unable to move at all.
Keeping calm and praying to God, I reassured myself with the process and the amount I knew these boxes could take. It was a matter of time until they found me. With how much was already above me and the distance I moved, I knew there couldn't be any more added. However, the pressure kept growing and growing and growing... It wasn't even above me anymore. I was slowly being crushed from all sides. I could feel the little kernels of corn stab into my sides and tear into my clothing. My ears were the first to be clogged.
When I attempted to take a deep breath, some got into my sinuses and closed them fully. The skin of my nose began to rip as more of those infernal stones entered it. I opened my mouth to breathe and... to scream... God, there was so much of it. I could feel it entering my mouth and throat, while also crushing it from the outside. It felt like hours, but I know it couldn't have been more than minutes. Then, it started entering my eyes. The agony of little pieces of seed going around my eyeball made me try to scream even more. I felt like my head was going to explode before I managed to suffocate...
With no warning, but feeling like a miracle, I was dropped onto the pavement as the grain was spilled around me. I was raised up by some coworkers and, as soon as I realized what was happening, I coughed my lungs out and started screaming. That was when I realized, there was nothing for me to cough out and my sight was as good as it ever was. Fritz walked down from his office, cussing all of us out for spilling the grain. He fired us all that day, but I was just relived to be alive. Having gathered my senses, I didn't mourn my old job. I also don't mourn Fritz's newly burnt down house... [EOF] [TRANSMISSION_CLOSED]
[STATEMENT RECEIVED. BEGIN REVIEW.] REVIEWED BY [ADMIN:M] ON [07/04/2026].
you know what? it's actually quite refreshing to hear about a small encounter like this without it being a connection to some grand scheme or domain or ritual. hell, this doesn't even sound like an encounter with an avatar, just some poor guy who had a particularly unlucky day at work.
of course i'm not happy he went through this. you probably understand my point. i don't need to justify myself.
the obvious assumption here is that Mr. Nikolitsch had himself an encounter with The Buried. falling into a pit, being quite literally buried beneath grains, the pressure and suffocation... these are textbook symptoms, i'd say. he's lucky he made it out alive at all, though i can't exactly verify whether he survived much longer after making this statement.
being buried under grain specifically is particularly brutal. i don't know if being trapped in a storage unit like that would have similar effects, but being trapped in a grain silo can result in blunt force trauma and suffocation.
i can't help but wonder if it was real. not in the sense that it didn't happen, but the effects of it didn't linger; perhaps it was metaphysical? a stranger pushing him in, a lack of sustained injury following the incident, and the fellow came out of it clean even though the shipping unit was clearly specified to contain grain.
[FINAL REGARDS]
with all of the statements i've looked at that have to do with ports in one way or another it's a wonder to me that people still end up working on them.
i'm confident in my assumption that this incident was directly related to The Buried, and i can't help but wonder if Mr. Nikolitsch's employer knew about it, what with his insistence on Mr. Nikolitsch's promotion. perhaps Fritz had even pushed him in.
more importantly, the source of this statement is... interesting. having a file sent to my inbox like this would normally indicate something new, but i couldn't help but notice that the note before the statement itself is marked with 198X. is this an old file from another organization? who is Marianne Louise?
regardless of who sent this, the message was clear. we have information. i hope i was able to provide something with this review. couldn't hurt to give a little more, should you ask.
TO BE FOLLOWED UP: [Y]
[STATEMENT COMPLETE. END REVIEW.]
[INCOMING_TRANSMISSION]
I am glad that we could have a cordial relationship and I hope you found my file useful. The filing system is primitive, but a vast Empire has a large number of subjects to analyze. As much as I could gather, this specific file is from 1932. Marko Nikolitsch or his status are unknown.
As additional support and information from the Evidenzbureau files, I can confirm that this is not Herr Fritz's first appearance. Full, real name Francis Dubois, this middle manager has at least one more appearance. In early 1925, Moravia, this French national was working as a supervisor in a coal mine owned by his father. As the events that transpired at that infernal place were a national tragedy, he left both the crownland and Cisleithania, generally. I had encounters with his work outside of official documentation, yet my situation is rather precarious and doesn't allow easy review.
Otherwise, I am gathering a list of questions and requests for your institution. I will have them delivered promptly.
Your colleague and fellow seeker of knowledge,
Marianne Louise
[END_TRANSMISSION]
LΓ‘szlΓ³ HegedΓΌs (Hungarian, 1870β1911) - Artist Friends in Paris (LΓ‘szlΓ³ HegedΕ±s, ΓdΓΆn Tull, JΓ‘nos Tornyai)
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Secret Service Bureau
Internal memo. Not to be shared externally.
Event report on the Black mountain disappearances. Eyewitness testimony attached.
Over the course of 1909 and 1910, seven people were reported missing in the wider vicinity of Black mountain quarry in Southern Wales. Four of the people were never found and are unofficially considered dead. The other three bodies were found in, seemingly, random places over the wider area of the limestone cliffs. They were a small distance away and considered to possibly be connected to the same incident despite their different state upon discovery.
Listed injuries per person:
June K. - missing head and the chest has deep puncture marks, which didn't damage the ribcage. Not completely confirmed, but connected by being the only female missing person
Dylan K. - body perfectly preserved under a large oak tree. No signs of decomposition. It appears as if he died mere hours before being discovered, despite being missing for weeks*
Thomas M. - had to be identified using his dental record. His skin was perfectly removed and laid under his bones, while his internal organs were strewn all over an area the size of an apartment. His intestines were hanging from a tree, lungs spread like sheets and heart missing
Despite clear occult activity and ritualistic behaviour, the clear confirmation of the supernatural is still not widely accepted. Having officially closed the investigation, our agents are surveying the greater area posing as Londoner tourists looking for an escape.
Dortmund 1920s
Reminds me of...
I can't quite place my finger on it right now...
what compelled you to join the occult research section? was it between that and the infantry?
There are quite a few reasons for my position within this specific type of military intelligence.
The middling relevance of my house could still guarantee that I wouldn't be among the first ones to have my blood spilled for Kaiser und Vaterland.
Another one was a mix of personal experience with the arcane and supernatural. You can't deny that what doesn't kill you makes you, at least, interested in it.
However, despite all of that, my position as Head Information Officer in this department is the fact that I was one of its founders. The Fifth Section was formed up around me, but not under me. I still answer to the director of the Bureau, to my overall detriment.
It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black...
Visiting Britain again after such a long time was a decision I didn't want to make yet. However, I had to.
A friend informed me that something might require my direct attention. He invited me to a meeting.
The waves rocked the submarine gently while secretly entering Swansea harbour. I was in the apparel of the landed gentry, somehow the most uncomfortable and unusual part of my memory, aside from the days spent aboard the submarine, so kindly provided by the Crown. I have not had a less appealing odor since I can remember, and it is too far back for my mind to keep so closely, unless you enjoy the smell of oil and smoke.
We have been using a ship of the merchant marine to resupply and cover our entry. It continued on to replenish the stocks for the way back in Cardiff so, for a day, we have to remain hidden.
The meeting was in a dimly lit pub near the harbour. The smell of rotting fish and the smog almost hid my horrid smell. Almost...
It was devoid of guests, not counting me, George and a woman unknown to me. I sat down and he ordered me a pint of stout. The strong flavour and enjoyable feel of the local beer was helpful in relaxing slightly after the long voyage.
"So, how do you find England?", asked my host.
"We are in Wales, you know?", I told him, uninterested in chatter after my trip.
"Eh, tomato, tomato...", he simply replied.
"I didn't come here for a drink and some company. I do have that in Vienna. What do you have?", I told him sharply, in a raspy voice induced by the beer.
"Alice, would you?", he turned to the lady who was looking me up and down calmly, while smoking a pipe.
A document folder was slid across the table by this mysterious stranger. It was unlabeled, unmarked and unassuming. It only had a wax stamp in the corner.
Examining the outside thoroughly, I asked: "Is that the crest of your reading club?"
"Ah, that's the Marianne I remember", George responded while I picked up the folder.
There were a few photos, a document and a handwritten note.
It's odd, but not unfamiliar. This place that I'm in is perfect to the milimetre.
Vienna, 1963
I wake up. It is always 7:26, no matter how long I stay in bed. Craving the same tea and biscuits, the morning begins.
I finish eating and reading the daily paper which talked about the bankruptcy at MΓVAG. After a while, I learned it by heart.
No matter what I do next, be it shaving, cleaning or even running, the sirens always start at 10:01.
When I stay inside, the city is awfully quiet for what is about to happen. Outside, it's pandemonium where no one notices or even crashes into me. Such orderly chaos and panic feels horrible.
The flash no longer blinds me. I can now look at every pulsing wave of that ball of sheer heat and power. Each ripple in that orb of light is now observable to me.
Time slows and I can see cracks form rapidly on the window of my living room.
It cracks open and, as my clothing begins combusting, I turn in my bed and see that it is 7:26...
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Austro-Hungarian silver & enamel necklace pendant . The pendant of a Galleon or ship is hand enameled on both sides embellished with baroque pearls. Made 1840-1880
Another office, another door.
Another archive, another hallway.
How long have I been going like this?
I have to walk through fog thicker than chlorine gas and I end up... where..?
Will it be Vienna or will it be Moscow?
Will it be Richmond or will it be Shanghai?
I get to a shelf and reach for a file. It's not empty, but it looks like what a document should be at a glance. The crest is wrong and nonsensical. The signature is just a line with no rhyme or reason...
Wait a minute, are the letters moving..? They must be. I can now make out a sentence. This used to be nothing but a smudge, a blur.
There is a picture of a person beginning to form. Who is this? Do they know something? Do I know them..?
The name still hasn't assembled itself and the face is still like a faded memory...
Wait. There is something liquid moving on my glove. Closing the document, I see that the ink is bleeding out of the document like a wound.
There is a sharp pain. It's burning through my glove like acid. I have to rip it off. There is a burn on the palm of my hand. I wonder if it will leave a mark? Most things don't anymore.
Why is this happening to me? I just need to remember...
Carl Friedrich Lessing - "Monastery courtyard in the snow" (c.1829)
Klosterruine im Winter, 1851 Carl Georg Adolph Hasenpflug
"The name on the last medal is a man I never knew, Though I bore his name and nature and his conscience as I grew..." The Crest, album Waiting for Bonaparte, The Men They Couldn't Hang [1988]
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Document No. 4ββββββ
[CLASSIFIED]
Primary information Classification: Person Sub-category: Enemy Informant Relation to the bureau: Prisoner Occult Support Date of contact: ββββββββββ Last location: βββββββββ
Personal information: Carlo Hardouin, suspected member of the Arcane Society. Found unconscious due to blood loss, possibly self-inflicted wound. Detained after Trieste raid. Captured with an, up until now, undeciphered book.
Current imprisonment procedures: Solitary confinement with one meal a day, constant light exposure which cannot be turned off by the prisoner Shared cell in the basement, increased rations and three meals a day. One shower a week Single prisoner containment cell with table, table lamp and access to the local library. Allowed out of the prison under guard. Granted officer guard meals and daily shower access Logs: Brought to βββββββββ prison. Interrogated after the chance of survival was deemed acceptable. After recovering to a certain degree, the prisoner was put to regular punishment to extract information Force applied: beatings, electrocution, lashes, starvation, bullet wounds applied to limbs. Following a week of aforementioned treatment, the prisoner became more cooperative after being offered certain privileges for translating and explaining the book captured alongside him. Relocation confirmed and completed. After a certain amount of work, we have gained knowledge on the Arcane Society's activities and connections. As a benefit, prisoner was elevated in status and given further facilities. At this time, this document is to be burned. Mr. Hardouin is to be hired, but kept under watch.
[CLASSIFIED]
God marches with us!
March along, lead the way,
Our country we will not betray!
Staying strong, staying true,
In our uniforms of blue!
Fighting on, night and day,
We are always here to stay!
Because God is marching with us!
Come on, men, stay and fight!
Show them our truest might!
We will win, never fail!
We will kill 'til we prevail!
Stab with sword, kill with shot!
We have to give it all we got!
Because God is marching with us!
March of the Austrian garrison during the Tianjin Incursion, 1926
