noise dept.
Kiana Khansmith
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
blake kathryn
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
One Nice Bug Per Day
★
Jules of Nature
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
h
NASA
untitled
oozey mess
Misplaced Lens Cap
Today's Document
Xuebing Du
if i look back, i am lost
Interview Vampire Daily
tannertan36
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye
seen from Chile
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Austria
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
seen from Chile
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Nigeria
@miguel-slater
Hello. I am Miguel Slater, archival assistant for the Usher Foundation Lincoln Branch. I’ve only worked with them for a bit and I’ve become an archival assistant rather recently, but I am still here to help if you have a statement to answer. And if for whatever reason you want to talk to me or know more about me, you may at any time. See you in the statement room.
-M.S
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Mfw I get kidnapped by the keepers of the insatiable torch for five months or so because they were too busy to keep posting
A tall, skinny man is walking down the street. He is young, short curly brown hair and a bit of peach fuzz. He wears a green flannel, and dirt-covered jeans. Miguel can't tell what exactly, but there's something strange about him.
Miguel watches him closely. He decides to follow the man at a distance, intending to find out exactly what is different about him.
>> OOC
i want to say (and i’m gonna reblog this to all my rp blogs) y’all are more than welcome to dm me on here for literally anything !! i might be dry sometimes but i PROMISE i don’t bite, whether it’s for lore ideas, interactions, one on one rp, or gen even just to say hi or send me posts i do NOT careee!! interact with me!!
I can confirm it doesn’t bite!!! Very friendly guys :> !!!
//ME TOO ON ALL OF MY RP BLOGS!!
OOC: Same here they’re not busy at all I promise
//side note watch your back you blue writing brit you are getting another statement soon
//oooh can’t wait to see it this time.
>> OOC
i want to say (and i’m gonna reblog this to all my rp blogs) y’all are more than welcome to dm me on here for literally anything !! i might be dry sometimes but i PROMISE i don’t bite, whether it’s for lore ideas, interactions, one on one rp, or gen even just to say hi or send me posts i do NOT careee!! interact with me!!
I can confirm it doesn’t bite!!! Very friendly guys :> !!!
//ME TOO ON ALL OF MY RP BLOGS!!
OOC: Same here they’re not busy at all I promise
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
magic anons allowed I hear… boom, animal ears/tail. just for a little bit. for fun. (I always love doing this to magic anon-able blogs)
It’s not bad is it? Right Leon? I can go outside and it’ll be socially acceptable?
Miguel, you’ve looked in the mirror. That is not what I’d call “not that bad”. You have big fluffy dog ears on the top of your head half the size of my hand and a tail to match.
Why are you even here? I never called you over.
Heard something commotion coming and wanted to check on you. And a “thank you Leon for not immediately telling everyone” would be nice by the way.
…thank you Leon.
For?
Not immediately telling everyone.
Wasn’t going to anyways. Just wanted to hear you say it. You know I’m not helping you with this right? It’s much more fun to watch this unfold.
I expected as much. Can you make sure nobody else sees me?
No promises. I’ll fetch you some lunch though. You probably don’t want to go out there like that.
Thanks. I’ll…pay you back eventually.
It’s on me today. I’ll be right back okay?
Okay.
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
I did. Poor Jeremy was going to sell the mine to me before he unfortunately passed.
Did you witness a tunnel form where there wasn’t one before? And did The Buried have anything to do with it?
"The Buried?" The man looks confused, as if he has no clue what you are talking about. "As for a mysterious, newly-formed tunnel, I can't say I did. We went to the bottom of the mine, came back, and I went home. I had sent him a drafted up contract before I heard news of his untimely death."
Miguel sighs and begins to scribble on a notepad. It is a lot of lines and dots. It slightly resembles an old piece of paper pinned to the wall behind him.
So you can confirm that both of you exited the mine together and you saw him last there correct?
"Yes. He and I left the mine together."
You..did? His statement says otherwise I fear.
Miguel takes out a piece of paper from a drawer. It is titled Statement of Jeremy Hughes. He begins to read it aloud.
“I heard Mr. Quinn speaking. He told me it was no use trying to escape, he thanked me for the tour, and told me he would draft up a contract for the quarry. He said goodbye”.
This is after Jeremy experiences his “cave in”. And until now both of your testimonies match. Mr Quinn, I am not in the business of bringing people to justice. I simply want to know if there were any supernatural occurrences, or if you are one. I want to know if The Buried was involved in this in order to categorize it properly.
The man smiles for a brief moment, looking somewhat confused. "I do not know what this 'Buried' you speak of is, nor do I believe in the supernatural. I never said anything malicious to the boy, and it is very possible that all this is some hallucination caused by the gas." At the mention of the gas, Miguel comes to a realization that ever since the man came into the archives, he has been feeling particularly drowsy.
I see. Well thank you Mr Quinn, this has been productive and I can discredit—
Miguel attempts to stand but loses balance quickly. He falls back in his chair.
No. Wait. No this isn’t normal. Did you do something?
"I don't think I know what you are talking about. Are you alright? If you need help I can fetch one of your coworkers."
No no I’m fine, I think? It’s just a dizzy spell. Maybe? I’ll be fine in a minute. Besides they’re all home now. I think. What time is it again?
Miguel stands up again, holding onto the table for support. He looks for the clock but he can’t seem to center himself.
It’s probably just the nerves. A lot of things happening lately. Maybe you should go. I think we’re done for the night. You are dismissed Mr Quinn.
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
I did. Poor Jeremy was going to sell the mine to me before he unfortunately passed.
Did you witness a tunnel form where there wasn’t one before? And did The Buried have anything to do with it?
"The Buried?" The man looks confused, as if he has no clue what you are talking about. "As for a mysterious, newly-formed tunnel, I can't say I did. We went to the bottom of the mine, came back, and I went home. I had sent him a drafted up contract before I heard news of his untimely death."
Miguel sighs and begins to scribble on a notepad. It is a lot of lines and dots. It slightly resembles an old piece of paper pinned to the wall behind him.
So you can confirm that both of you exited the mine together and you saw him last there correct?
"Yes. He and I left the mine together."
You..did? His statement says otherwise I fear.
Miguel takes out a piece of paper from a drawer. It is titled Statement of Jeremy Hughes. He begins to read it aloud.
“I heard Mr. Quinn speaking. He told me it was no use trying to escape, he thanked me for the tour, and told me he would draft up a contract for the quarry. He said goodbye”.
This is after Jeremy experiences his “cave in”. And until now both of your testimonies match. Mr Quinn, I am not in the business of bringing people to justice. I simply want to know if there were any supernatural occurrences, or if you are one. I want to know if The Buried was involved in this in order to categorize it properly.
The man smiles for a brief moment, looking somewhat confused. "I do not know what this 'Buried' you speak of is, nor do I believe in the supernatural. I never said anything malicious to the boy, and it is very possible that all this is some hallucination caused by the gas." At the mention of the gas, Miguel comes to a realization that ever since the man came into the archives, he has been feeling particularly drowsy.
I see. Well thank you Mr Quinn, this has been productive and I can discredit—
Miguel attempts to stand but loses balance quickly. He falls back in his chair.
No. Wait. No this isn’t normal. Did you do something?
There's a polite knock on the Archive's door.
((ooc: for Miguel,author of the Cheshire statement))
Oh! I’ll be right there!
(There is a general commotion as drawers open and close. After a bit something clicks and a door creaks open.)
Come in. Would you like anything? Tea?
The person nods, holding a big ball of black fluff in their arms- a cat?
"Yes,yes,that would be lovely."
They speak in a soft,sweet voice, with a noticeably posh British accent.
Here. I just finished brewing a pot.
Miguel hands over a teacup with a warm dark liquid inside.
Sorry, I don’t have sugar right now but I do have milk. What’s its name, if I may ask?
Fae sets the cat down carefully before picking up the teacup. It sniffs it slightly before taking a sip. Oh, that's bitter.
"Her name is Willard."
The cat chirps a greeting upon being introduced.
That is a lovely name.
He brings over a tape recorder and inserts a new cassette.
So…are you willing to answer a few questions?
"That is what I'm here for,why wouldn't I?"
Fae sits down, pulling the cat up gently.
Okay then. Let’s begin.
Miguel presses a button on the tape recorder. It begins to whirr.
Name and what you would like to report, please.
It tilts their head in slight confusion.
"Cheshire, I am here to answer whatever questions you have about The Web and other powers?.."
God,they forgot how annoying statements can be.
Thank you. So where do I begin…hmm.
Miguel pauses for a moment to think. He drinks his tea, although he makes a face at how bitter it has gotten.
Let’s begin with The Web. The Mother of Puppets. What is it? What it does and its goals and such.
Fae politely pushes their own bitter tea aside, instead focusing on petting its cat.
"Well. It is the power that is focused on control? Not having it, feeling like someone else is pulling the strings,etc etc. pretty much in the name."
It hums slightly, trying to think of answers to his other questions.
"Well. Not everyone needs to knows its plans? That is not my focus, especially considering my... Affiliations,are sort of different."
And how about let’s say replacement. The feeling something isn’t right about someone. That you recognize them but it’s not them. Something masked even?
Or one with fractals. An insanity that takes hold of people. Is there one for that as well?
"The Stranger, and The Spiral, respectively."
Fae says, pulling its sleeves down to hide their fractal scars on its arms.
How many powers are there? How do they form? Or is it that they’ve always been here? And—
Miguel cuts himself off. He takes a breath before continuing.
Actually…I have one more question. I don’t want to keep you here too long. Can people become servants of the powers, and if so how do they do it?
"You really are clueless..."
Amelie says, brushing off a curl.
"Some people say it's 15,but no one is sure, considering they're undescribable messes of energy based on human emotions. And they've probably been there forever?.."
It grins at the last question.
"Of course they do. Fear and love are two sides of the same coin,afterall. If you fear something enough to embrace it..."
Thank you very much. This has been very enlightening. I really shouldn’t keep you here long. This place…does things to people. You may go.
Fae laughs slightly.
"I cannot be worse than what working at the Magnus Institute does to people,if I am fine after working there for four months,a quick visit to its American branch won't harm me."
I suppose it couldn’t be that different no. Mostly just new and dangerous artifacts to deal with that they don’t have. But we’re all a little used to evil soul consuming household items aren’t we?
Miguel laughs a little. He goes to the electric kettle plugging in on the back wall for more hot water, but stops. He seems to be looking for something.
Speaking of have you seen a mug lying around here? I could have sworn I put it down on my desk a moment ago. One with yellow fractals as its design? I’d rather it not leave my sight…well you can imagine why.
Fae looks around,only to realise they've been sipping out of it for a while.
"This one?.. I just assumed that was a coincidence that I was given a fractal pattern mug... Fractal patterns seem to love me."
Hmm. At least it’s off my back. That thing has a mind of its own and it’s dedicated to making me look insane. I’d burn it if I could but it doesn’t sit still long enough to.
Miguel places a teabag into a new mug. This one is plain, no patterning to it.
You can leave the mug there I’ll clean it up later. Unless you know someone who’d really love one of those then go ahead and take it off our hands. As far as I know it has no statement attached to it. And if you want to go then…go ahead. I think I have what I need mostly. I could show you around if you want but I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.
There's a polite knock on the Archive's door.
((ooc: for Miguel,author of the Cheshire statement))
Oh! I’ll be right there!
(There is a general commotion as drawers open and close. After a bit something clicks and a door creaks open.)
Come in. Would you like anything? Tea?
The person nods, holding a big ball of black fluff in their arms- a cat?
"Yes,yes,that would be lovely."
They speak in a soft,sweet voice, with a noticeably posh British accent.
Here. I just finished brewing a pot.
Miguel hands over a teacup with a warm dark liquid inside.
Sorry, I don’t have sugar right now but I do have milk. What’s its name, if I may ask?
Fae sets the cat down carefully before picking up the teacup. It sniffs it slightly before taking a sip. Oh, that's bitter.
"Her name is Willard."
The cat chirps a greeting upon being introduced.
That is a lovely name.
He brings over a tape recorder and inserts a new cassette.
So…are you willing to answer a few questions?
"That is what I'm here for,why wouldn't I?"
Fae sits down, pulling the cat up gently.
Okay then. Let’s begin.
Miguel presses a button on the tape recorder. It begins to whirr.
Name and what you would like to report, please.
It tilts their head in slight confusion.
"Cheshire, I am here to answer whatever questions you have about The Web and other powers?.."
God,they forgot how annoying statements can be.
Thank you. So where do I begin…hmm.
Miguel pauses for a moment to think. He drinks his tea, although he makes a face at how bitter it has gotten.
Let’s begin with The Web. The Mother of Puppets. What is it? What it does and its goals and such.
Fae politely pushes their own bitter tea aside, instead focusing on petting its cat.
"Well. It is the power that is focused on control? Not having it, feeling like someone else is pulling the strings,etc etc. pretty much in the name."
It hums slightly, trying to think of answers to his other questions.
"Well. Not everyone needs to knows its plans? That is not my focus, especially considering my... Affiliations,are sort of different."
And how about let’s say replacement. The feeling something isn’t right about someone. That you recognize them but it’s not them. Something masked even?
Or one with fractals. An insanity that takes hold of people. Is there one for that as well?
"The Stranger, and The Spiral, respectively."
Fae says, pulling its sleeves down to hide their fractal scars on its arms.
How many powers are there? How do they form? Or is it that they’ve always been here? And—
Miguel cuts himself off. He takes a breath before continuing.
Actually…I have one more question. I don’t want to keep you here too long. Can people become servants of the powers, and if so how do they do it?
"You really are clueless..."
Amelie says, brushing off a curl.
"Some people say it's 15,but no one is sure, considering they're undescribable messes of energy based on human emotions. And they've probably been there forever?.."
It grins at the last question.
"Of course they do. Fear and love are two sides of the same coin,afterall. If you fear something enough to embrace it..."
Thank you very much. This has been very enlightening. I really shouldn’t keep you here long. This place…does things to people. You may go.
Fae laughs slightly.
"I cannot be worse than what working at the Magnus Institute does to people,if I am fine after working there for four months,a quick visit to its American branch won't harm me."
I suppose it couldn’t be that different no. Mostly just new and dangerous artifacts to deal with that they don’t have. But we’re all a little used to evil soul consuming household items aren’t we?
Miguel laughs a little. He goes to the electric kettle plugging in on the back wall for more hot water, but stops. He seems to be looking for something.
Speaking of have you seen a mug lying around here? I could have sworn I put it down on my desk a moment ago. One with yellow fractals as its design? I’d rather it not leave my sight…well you can imagine why.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
I did. Poor Jeremy was going to sell the mine to me before he unfortunately passed.
Did you witness a tunnel form where there wasn’t one before? And did The Buried have anything to do with it?
"The Buried?" The man looks confused, as if he has no clue what you are talking about. "As for a mysterious, newly-formed tunnel, I can't say I did. We went to the bottom of the mine, came back, and I went home. I had sent him a drafted up contract before I heard news of his untimely death."
Miguel sighs and begins to scribble on a notepad. It is a lot of lines and dots. It slightly resembles an old piece of paper pinned to the wall behind him.
So you can confirm that both of you exited the mine together and you saw him last there correct?
"Yes. He and I left the mine together."
You..did? His statement says otherwise I fear.
Miguel takes out a piece of paper from a drawer. It is titled Statement of Jeremy Hughes. He begins to read it aloud.
“I heard Mr. Quinn speaking. He told me it was no use trying to escape, he thanked me for the tour, and told me he would draft up a contract for the quarry. He said goodbye”.
This is after Jeremy experiences his “cave in”. And until now both of your testimonies match. Mr Quinn, I am not in the business of bringing people to justice. I simply want to know if there were any supernatural occurrences, or if you are one. I want to know if The Buried was involved in this in order to categorize it properly.
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
I did. Poor Jeremy was going to sell the mine to me before he unfortunately passed.
Did you witness a tunnel form where there wasn’t one before? And did The Buried have anything to do with it?
"The Buried?" The man looks confused, as if he has no clue what you are talking about. "As for a mysterious, newly-formed tunnel, I can't say I did. We went to the bottom of the mine, came back, and I went home. I had sent him a drafted up contract before I heard news of his untimely death."
Miguel sighs and begins to scribble on a notepad. It is a lot of lines and dots. It slightly resembles an old piece of paper pinned to the wall behind him.
So you can confirm that both of you exited the mine together and you saw him last there correct?
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
I did. Poor Jeremy was going to sell the mine to me before he unfortunately passed.
Did you witness a tunnel form where there wasn’t one before? And did The Buried have anything to do with it?
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
"I will answer what I presume to be most of your questions, and just know, if you try any beholding tricks on me, I will know, and it won't work. As for the mine, I do indeed own it, I purchased it at auction about 30 years ago. Ask away."
In that case let’s begin.
Miguel clicks a button on the tape recorder and it begins to whirr.
This is Miguel slater, conversing with Oscar Quinn, owner of the Oakshead quarry. Mr Quinn, did you come across a man named Jeremy Hughes before the auction of the mine? And if you did, did you witness him experiencing a cave in in one of the tunnels?
pspspspsp
are magic anons allowed…. for research purposes
OOC: I just looked up what magic anons are and yes they’re allowed. Most rp that happen on this blog are unrelated or far removed from the storyline of UFLB so it wouldn’t be much of an issue.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
An older man in a dust-lined red/brown pinstripe suit knocks on the archive door. He seems confident, as if he knows exactly why he is there and what is about to happen. "Excuse me? I'm looking for a Miguel Slater."
The door turns slowly. Miguel coughs, he doesn’t remember it being this dusty. He would have to wipe things down later.
Oh hello! That would be me. Follow me please.
Miguel leads him to a small office. The walls are lined with bookshelves and there are no windows. It is covered in papers, each one filled to the brim with scribbles. There is a bulletin board in the back with lines connecting different names and photos. He sits down behind a dark walnut desk. There is an empty chair in front of it. There are many mugs lying about, some with tea in them. Each one has gone cold.
If I could have your name and reason for visit?
The man takes the seat, and begins fidgeting with the mugs, turning them all specific ways, or just trying to read them. "Oscar Amos Quinn. Reason for visit, I had caught word you were looking for me."
You…caught word. I see. I suppose I’m not as surprised by that.
Miguel takes out a blank cassette tape and inserts it into the tape recorder on his desk.
So Mr. Quinn, I take it you’re the owner of the Oakshead quarry? I’d like to ask a few questions about the quarry, if you wouldn’t mind.
There's a polite knock on the Archive's door.
((ooc: for Miguel,author of the Cheshire statement))
Oh! I’ll be right there!
(There is a general commotion as drawers open and close. After a bit something clicks and a door creaks open.)
Come in. Would you like anything? Tea?
The person nods, holding a big ball of black fluff in their arms- a cat?
"Yes,yes,that would be lovely."
They speak in a soft,sweet voice, with a noticeably posh British accent.
Here. I just finished brewing a pot.
Miguel hands over a teacup with a warm dark liquid inside.
Sorry, I don’t have sugar right now but I do have milk. What’s its name, if I may ask?
Fae sets the cat down carefully before picking up the teacup. It sniffs it slightly before taking a sip. Oh, that's bitter.
"Her name is Willard."
The cat chirps a greeting upon being introduced.
That is a lovely name.
He brings over a tape recorder and inserts a new cassette.
So…are you willing to answer a few questions?
"That is what I'm here for,why wouldn't I?"
Fae sits down, pulling the cat up gently.
Okay then. Let’s begin.
Miguel presses a button on the tape recorder. It begins to whirr.
Name and what you would like to report, please.
It tilts their head in slight confusion.
"Cheshire, I am here to answer whatever questions you have about The Web and other powers?.."
God,they forgot how annoying statements can be.
Thank you. So where do I begin…hmm.
Miguel pauses for a moment to think. He drinks his tea, although he makes a face at how bitter it has gotten.
Let’s begin with The Web. The Mother of Puppets. What is it? What it does and its goals and such.
Fae politely pushes their own bitter tea aside, instead focusing on petting its cat.
"Well. It is the power that is focused on control? Not having it, feeling like someone else is pulling the strings,etc etc. pretty much in the name."
It hums slightly, trying to think of answers to his other questions.
"Well. Not everyone needs to knows its plans? That is not my focus, especially considering my... Affiliations,are sort of different."
And how about let’s say replacement. The feeling something isn’t right about someone. That you recognize them but it’s not them. Something masked even?
Or one with fractals. An insanity that takes hold of people. Is there one for that as well?
"The Stranger, and The Spiral, respectively."
Fae says, pulling its sleeves down to hide their fractal scars on its arms.
How many powers are there? How do they form? Or is it that they’ve always been here? And—
Miguel cuts himself off. He takes a breath before continuing.
Actually…I have one more question. I don’t want to keep you here too long. Can people become servants of the powers, and if so how do they do it?
"You really are clueless..."
Amelie says, brushing off a curl.
"Some people say it's 15,but no one is sure, considering they're undescribable messes of energy based on human emotions. And they've probably been there forever?.."
It grins at the last question.
"Of course they do. Fear and love are two sides of the same coin,afterall. If you fear something enough to embrace it..."
Thank you very much. This has been very enlightening. I really shouldn’t keep you here long. This place…does things to people. You may go.
