blep

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies

Janaina Medeiros
No title available
Stranger Things
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

⁂
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
One Nice Bug Per Day
Not today Justin
styofa doing anything

if i look back, i am lost
ojovivo
$LAYYYTER

izzy's playlists!
will byers stan first human second
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
NASA

roma★
No title available
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Indonesia

seen from Türkiye

seen from Indonesia

seen from Singapore
seen from India
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Kuwait
@arborian
blep
My whole day since 10:00 in the AM was spent filming something that I would be unable to use... So I had to go back to the drawing board and spent another hour just getting one scene of my new idea. Tomorrow is another day.
Beyond the Black Rainbow (2010; Panos Cosmatos)
If Barry Nyle isn’t your favorite delusional hippie slasher then idk what to say.
Age of Aquarius - The 5th Dimension
T H E A R B O R I A I N S T I T U T E
Founded by Doctor Mercurio Arboria in the early 1960s, the Arboria institute was meant to be the cradle of a utopia. The birthplace of the coming age of enlightenment, it’s goal was a simple one: to help humanity achieve true, spiritual happiness by blending experimental and cutting edge science with new-age mysticism and philosophy. With a sprawling, state of the art facility and an ever-expanding staff of new-age healers and scientists, the Institute seemed poised to do just that. Doctor Arboria prided himself on his team’s foremost progress into a field he saw as unexplored, Onward they marched, hoping to achieve the state of transcendence that would pave way for Mercurio’s new age of enlightenment.
However, it wasn’t just the new-age believers that flocked to the institute in interest of Arboria’s ‘holistic’ experiments. Seeing potential in the institute’s shared interest of hallucinogenic drugs and parapsychological practices, the CIA would provide under the table funding to ensure that Arboria’s facilities were always kept on the cutting edge and generously supplied– so long that a portion of the institute’s findings would find their way to the Director’s desk.
It is at this point that, as many idealists tend to do, Doctor Arboria stumbled. With great funding came the drive to reach the unattainable, and with that drive was the institute’s original goal all but forgotten. Focus shifted, and the experiments themselves would begin to take dark and eventually tragic turns. By the end of the seventies, those who had once shared Arboria’s dream had either drifted in pursuit of their own vision, or disappeared entirely. By the eighties, Arboria himself had long since disappeared from public eye, leaving only his protege and head of Research, Barry Nyle, in charge of overseeing the Institute and it’s continued experiments.
Barry is exceedingly vulnerable to psychic contact. He himself cannot is unable to send out psychic signals, but he can receive receive them very clearly. Be forewarned, though, as psychic contact of any kind is bound to overstimulate him and set him off.
arborian:
“Bring home the mother lode, Barry.” Written by john.
Barry is described in the script as looking like: “an aging surfer calcified into a reptilian wax vampire.”
synthmama:
There is silence. This, she remembers: the cold familiarity, the tight vice and its glacial grip. It is familiar, just as this form of dreaming is, too. And yet, there is something different – warmer, hazier. It feels like she’s in a fishbowl, and the world around is little more garbled echoes & oily shadows.
But there is a burst. There is light, sharp and red and burning. Adrenaline courses, and a woman conditioned to SURVIVE reacts the only way she knows. Her hand claps over the cyborg’s arm, wrenching it back and twisting around until the limb locks against the joint and Quinn’s circled behind. She pushes, and utilizes the momentum to shove them up against the glass – defensive, but not meant to HURT. Her mind cuts past the cobwebs of adrenaline, working to find the right way to handle the situation. Closed off room. Mirror. And a man that watches her as if she’s nothing more than his next test subject. The information will do, for now… But she needs more to go off of.
“Now, then.” Quinn exhales. Casts a short glance, checking the ventilation, and for surveillance. “Are you going to be a good host and introduce yourself and your friend, or are we skipping pleasantries?”
Loud and otherworldly, an electronic outcry, one sounding like a babbling dialup tone riding a frantic wave of radio static, sounds out from whatever lurks behind the Sentionaut’s mask. To her, it was noise, but to him, it was a deafening psychic dagger. Doctor Nyle reels back from the sudden sensation, eyes closed and mouth held slightly agape.
“T-That’s... not necessary,” hand grips the leather armrest, jaw clenches. He takes his reign, the meds helping keeping back the urgings for violence that tend to follow such parapsychological stimuli. She’s strong, he muses, standing from his chair after finding proper footing. Too strong. Perhaps she’s like him, seen what he’s seen. Perhaps she’d been changed by the great UNKNOWABLE truths that lie beyond perception and reality. She wasn’t there, and now she was, surely this woman had come from some great place with reason. That’s, at least, what he had babbled to himself when she first appeared. “I’m Doctor Barry Nyle, Head of Research for the Arboria Institute. You, uh, came from nowhere. Before that there was... Nothing. We just happened to find you passed out on the institute’s grounds,” you’re beautiful when you sleep, “and that’s all there is to say.”
A pause. The institute continues humming it’s one, long, dreadful note. The walls and floors vibrating with the pyramid’s power. Nyle adjusts his tweed jacket, standing not at all far from her-- only separated by the plane of black glass. “Do you hear that? It could put you back to sleep at any time I please, my nurse is watching. Why don’t you let it go. Let’s... talk.”
T H E A R B O R I A I N S T I T U T E
Founded by Doctor Mercurio Arboria in the early 1960s, the Arboria institute was meant to be the cradle of a utopia. The birthplace of the coming age of enlightenment, it’s goal was a simple one: to help humanity achieve true, spiritual happiness by blending experimental and cutting edge science with new-age mysticism and philosophy. With a sprawling, state of the art facility and an ever-expanding staff of new-age healers and scientists, the Institute seemed poised to do just that. Doctor Arboria prided himself on his team’s foremost progress into a field he saw as unexplored, Onward they marched, hoping to achieve the state of transcendence that would pave way for Mercurio’s new age of enlightenment.
However, it wasn’t just the new-age believers that flocked to the institute in interest of Arboria’s ‘holistic’ experiments. Seeing potential in the institute’s shared interest of hallucinogenic drugs and parapsychological practices, the CIA would provide under the table funding to ensure that Arboria’s facilities were always kept on the cutting edge and generously supplied-- so long that a portion of the institute’s findings would find their way to the Director’s desk.
It is at this point that, as many idealists tend to do, Doctor Arboria stumbled. With great funding came the drive to reach the unattainable, and with that drive was the institute’s original goal all but forgotten. Focus shifted, and the experiments themselves would begin to take dark and eventually tragic turns. By the end of the seventies, those who had once shared Arboria’s dream had either drifted in pursuit of their own vision, or disappeared entirely. By the eighties, Arboria himself had long since disappeared from public eye, leaving only his protege and head of Research, Barry Nyle, in charge of overseeing the Institute and it’s continued experiments.
@skinfed
“You’re a very special case, I can tell. Do you have a name-- or even know where you’re from?” She’s different, unlike anything ever dragged into the institute by far. Lost, alone, physically and mentally alien. The pyramid hums, his fingers tingling from the electric buzz of it’s energy as it radiates throughout the institute. “What are you?”
@mothereign
“How are you feeling?” Tap. Tap. Pen raps against the clunky metallic clipboard, an irksome habit designed to grate and perturb. A needling little noise to accompany the doctor’s questioning. “There’s no telling how long you were out there, In the wilderness... Exposure’s no joke, and we checked you as thoroughly as we could. No lesions,” tap, “no blood,” tap, “but one can never be too certain, hm? Always best to hear straight from the source.”
Like this for a starter babes
arborian:
“Bring home the mother lode, Barry.” Written by john.
Very true!