TATTERDEMALION KING

“For I knew that the King in Yellow had opened his tattered mantle and there was only God to cry to now.” - Robert W. Chambers, The King in Yellow --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- {ASK/RP BLOG} --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- {MOD AUTHOR – Adam V.} --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- {MUSE – The Yellow King} --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- {I HAVE NO OWNERSHIP OVER ANY IMAGES. UNLESS STATED OTHERWISE.} --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- { TAG - Carcosa-Lost } --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- { sometimes NSFW / 18+ } --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Follows back from Hellcab!

[punte]

[carcosa-lost]

ₕₐᵥₑ yₒᵤ ₛₑₑₙ ₜₕₑ yₑₗₗₒw ₛᵢgₙ?

[sandmandaddy69]

Jean Pierre Targete

[carcosa-lost]

. . .

[carcosa-lost]

Puppet Play

@rocxyoulikeahurricane

The Carnival was here. Then again, it’s always been here.  

Screams and laughter fill the air, as carny music played again and again. The rides were packed, the smiles were everywhere. Yet, there was a darkness under each smile. A screaming panic to be let out.

The carnies stared with hateful smiles. While everywhere, there was a sense of unease.

There were masks too.

Strange, venetian like masks on people who don’t belong. They were always in the distance, just out of reach. Just watching Adam as he walked the carny grounds.

Then, there was the puppet master. An old Sinner, with ragged clothing of yellow. He wore a big top hat, with bells attached. He sought out Adam and gently grabbed him by his jacket.

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Aimeriez-vous un spectacle?”

[rocxyoulikeahurricanearchive]

Adam didn't remember coming to this place, and something seemed off. The laughter was too loud, smiles too wide, screams straddling the line between excitement and panic too closely. The he saw HIM. A voice that sounded like a melody entered his ears. Light, warm, unnerve disarming. "Classical music isn't really my vibe". A lie true, he leaned more toward hard rock and metal, but he had enjoyed all manner of music in his long life.

@carcosa-lost

[carcosa-lost]

"S’il vous plaît monsieur! P l e a s e! Come and see the show!"

The Old Carny was so damn persistent for Adam to attend. Escorting him, he showed him his whimsical puppet theater. It was gilded, but the gold was tarnished and needed cleaning. Overall, the theater has seen better days. There were strange creatures on it. One, looking like some sort of Dog, standing up right. It was no Hellhound, but something stranger, something more animalistic.

There was what appeared to be a dragon. It looked like some weird, strange horse given wings. There was even a city painted on the theater. A strange looking place, of ruins under black stars.

The audience was mostly children, Imps, and the like. The Old Carny soon vanished behind the small theater. Then, the show began. A puppet came down. It was the cartoonish image of a sinner. Just . . . it looked very familiar. The puppet was painted blue, with one missing horn. It wore a green jacket, with a black fisherman hat. It’s . . . . It’s Roth. It dangled about, acting foolish and silly, as the Hellborn children laughed.

Yet, the look on the puppet's face screamed helpless terror. As if, it was begging to be freed.

[carcosa-lost]

Midnight Silence

@nebula-gaster

The television was consumed with static. Dead asleep, Roth snored deeply and loudly. Several crumpled beer cans were littered around his recliner.

You can hear the faint sounds of the city. The garbage collectors, the midnight train, and the nearby freeway. Next door, a baby cries. Upstairs, you can hear a nervous man pacing around. Downstairs, you can hear rock music. There was noise everywhere.

Then, there was nothing. No sound. No crying. No music. The television set was silent.

Somewhere, in Roth’s apartment was a voice calling to Buzz. It sounded familiar. It was called to him by his living name.

“Alexander.”

The voice called, louder than a whisper. Again, it spoke his name.

“Alexander. Come here.”

[carcosa-lost]

The door opens to his mother. She’s at the table, with his cake. The same exact cake at his fifth birthday party. She’s smiling with motherly warmth.

“Alexander. I’m so happy to see you. It’s been so, so long.”

She stands up and walks over towards him. She looks up, with the love and pride of any good mother. She brings him into a hug. It’s so warm, so comfortable. So, reassuring.

“Come. Come. Just sit right down.”

Taking Buzz by his hand, she leads him over to the table.

“Just in time before h e arrives.”

[nebula-gaster]

At this point, Buzz no longer cared if it was real or not. It was happening, he was here, and honestly, after all the pain he'd been going through lately, he deserved this. He deserved his mom, he deserved cake, he deserved all this and more.

"I love you, mom..." He was so much taller than her now, over a full foot. He had to bend a bit to properly hug her, then simply fell to his knees and buried his face in her stomach as he let the tears flow. He allowed her to lead him to the table, where he took a seat.

"Who's... he? Is dad here, too?"

[carcosa-lost]

“No.”

Softly she answers, with a hint of thinly veiled loathing for Buzz. She turns, her face slightly illuminated by the candles, she smiles.

“The Father soon to be for all.”

She walks away, standing at the opposite end of the table. She places her hands on the chair, they’re bloodied. The fresh blood glistens in the light.

She smiles again. There’s just some awful feeling to her. That smile, those eyes, all hiding some screaming horror inside. Yet, their resignation in her look. Acceptance of misery and despair. Jubilation, even.

“Oh, Alex. He wants you too. He wants all of you. In Carcosa.”

Then, they arrived. Masked strangers appearing out from the void. They surround the table, each wearing a decorative mask. They were dressed for a ball. Two descended upon Buzz, grabbing him and holding him there. Their grip is strong, unnatural.

One ventured over to her. He carries a in his hands, a box cutter. She looks and gently takes the gift.

“W e have all discarded disguise.”

The blade shines in the light. Somewhere, there’s whispering and sounds of distant screams.

“I wear no mask.”

She takes the blade and stabs just below the jaw. Blood gushes out, but she remains standing. She starts carving slowly, from one point to the next. All the while, keeping eye contact with Buzz.

“You’ll see the sign, Alexander! You will ALL SEEEEEEEEEE!”

[hellcab]

Also, just wanna clarify The Yellow King is a limited-time muse. Which to say, he has “expiration date” of sorts. I mostly created his side blog for important events coming up for Roth.

Granted, I’ll still RP Y.K. after these events but those threads will be set before.

[serpentgoat]

ITS JOHHHNNNNN THEE HEE

[carcosa-lost]

Midnight Silence

@nebula-gaster

The television was consumed with static. Dead asleep, Roth snored deeply and loudly. Several crumpled beer cans were littered around his recliner.

You can hear the faint sounds of the city. The garbage collectors, the midnight train, and the nearby freeway. Next door, a baby cries. Upstairs, you can hear a nervous man pacing around. Downstairs, you can hear rock music. There was noise everywhere.

Then, there was nothing. No sound. No crying. No music. The television set was silent.

Somewhere, in Roth’s apartment was a voice calling to Buzz. It sounded familiar. It was called to him by his living name.

“Alexander.”

The voice called, louder than a whisper. Again, it spoke his name.

“Alexander. Come here.”

[carcosa-lost]

The door opens to his mother. She’s at the table, with his cake. The same exact cake at his fifth birthday party. She’s smiling with motherly warmth.

“Alexander. I’m so happy to see you. It’s been so, so long.”

She stands up and walks over towards him. She looks up, with the love and pride of any good mother. She brings him into a hug. It’s so warm, so comfortable. So, reassuring.

“Come. Come. Just sit right down.”

Taking Buzz by his hand, she leads him over to the table.

“Just in time before h e arrives.”

[carcosa-lost]

Puppet Play

@rocxyoulikeahurricane

The Carnival was here. Then again, it’s always been here.  

Screams and laughter fill the air, as carny music played again and again. The rides were packed, the smiles were everywhere. Yet, there was a darkness under each smile. A screaming panic to be let out.

The carnies stared with hateful smiles. While everywhere, there was a sense of unease.

There were masks too.

Strange, venetian like masks on people who don’t belong. They were always in the distance, just out of reach. Just watching Adam as he walked the carny grounds.

Then, there was the puppet master. An old Sinner, with ragged clothing of yellow. He wore a big top hat, with bells attached. He sought out Adam and gently grabbed him by his jacket.

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Aimeriez-vous un spectacle?”

[carcosa-lost]

Midnight Silence

@nebula-gaster

The television was consumed with static. Dead asleep, Roth snored deeply and loudly. Several crumpled beer cans were littered around his recliner.

You can hear the faint sounds of the city. The garbage collectors, the midnight train, and the nearby freeway. Next door, a baby cries. Upstairs, you can hear a nervous man pacing around. Downstairs, you can hear rock music. There was noise everywhere.

Then, there was nothing. No sound. No crying. No music. The television set was silent.

Somewhere, in Roth’s apartment was a voice calling to Buzz. It sounded familiar. It was called to him by his living name.

“Alexander.”

The voice called, louder than a whisper. Again, it spoke his name.

“Alexander. Come here.”

[nebula-gaster]

Buzz spent most of his free time sleeping nowadays, his only escape from the persistent migraines of withdrawal. He rarely took pain medication, afraid of getting addicted to that, and so sought to spend as little time awake as possible while still getting his work done. It was a small miracle that he was still coherent enough for that, but he was running on fumes at this point and knew it wouldn't be long before he crashed hard and just gave into despair.

His eyes shot open, and his blood ran cold when he heard someone calling him by his human name. There was something in the apartment, something evil, surely, for what else could pry that out of his mind? At least he woke up with a somewhat clear mind, so he wouldn't be distracted by pain. He slowly crawled off of the couch and stood up, wrapping his blanket around him. "Who... said that?" He was afraid, terrified even, and felt sick because of it.

[carcosa-lost]

“Come here, son.”

The voice was coming from down the hallway. It was familiar, motherly like. Its tone was sing song as it spoke. The sound of laughter follows. It’s teasing Buzz.

“Alexander, come here. Your mother wants to show you. Something.”

Since the voice, the apartment has grown darker. The only source of light was the television screen. Roth was still sleeping.

“Come. Here.”

The voice called out again, now much sterner. The television changes, switching channels. The channels warped into static, blurring together. Soon, it stops on one image. A large mansion in the woods. There was a strange symbol above the doorway.

“Sweetie please. Your mother wants you h e r e.”

The voice beckons Buzz to come down the hallway.

It has something to show him.

[nebula-gaster]

"...mom?" He hadn't heard his mother's voice in over six years, but he could never forget it. What was she doing in Hell? His teeth began to chatter, and he wrapped up his blanket more tightly around himself before making his way down the hallway.

Buzz felt a haze in his mind, and he realized that he wasn't quite sure if this was a dream or reality. It felt real, but still, why was his mother calling out to him? "Mom... mom, are you there? Mom, what did I get for my fifth birthday?"

[carcosa-lost]

“I’m here.”

The voice answered in perfect imitation. You could even hear the smile in her words. It knows how to play a heart. How a mother's voice can lire so many.

“Oh sweetie, I got you that game console. SNES with Donkey Kong Country. Oh, you wanted it so badly.”

The hallway seems longer than before. Why, you could even hear the walls stretching. Was this a trick? Was this just a dream?

There’s a faint light underneath the doorway. It flickers gently.

“I’m just in here Alexander. Just open t h e door.”

[carcosa-lost]

OPERA NIGHT

@themosthatedbeingg

There he is in the shadows. Unnoticed by all, except for one. Dressed in regal tatters, his pallid mask hides away the blasphemous insanity of Godhood.  

He's staring at Lucifer. White buckshot eyes stared out across the vast theater, staring at Lucifer. Then, he vanishes.

There he is again, now closer than before. On stage, with the masked actors all around. None see him, no one take notice. He stands there with purpose as he stares.

Vanishing again, he’s closer now. Now in the audience, turning back to see Lucifer. That pallid mask becoming more hideous as he grows closer, imitating the face of sorrow and pain. He vanishes once more.

Now he’s here. Sitting right next to Lucifer. No guard notices, no one pays any attention. The theater grows silent, coming to a standstill. The air is dead as everyone is frozen. Time is exiled.

The stranger stars out across the grand opera, his eyes casting an emotionless gaze.

“Lightbringer. Morningstar. You have many names, as so do I.”

Three voices in one, his tone was of curiosity. Yet, something else brought him here.

“Does The King enjoy his imprisonment here?”

[themosthatedbeingg]

He was used to stares , used to whispers and quick glances, however he also knew a purposeful stare when he saw one and he indeed did see one , although he was doing his best to ignore it, he wasn’t King of Hell for nothing, he knew the other was coming closer and coming for him .

And it was annoying ;

Seriously the one time he’s out trying to enjoy himself and It has the nerve to ruin that .

He bristled slightly when he appeared next to him unable to feigned his ignorance of him. The Dragon King rolled his eyes as he turned to face the other in Yellow.

“He was, until you came along and paused the show,” he spoke confidently a soft hint of a growl rumbling in his voice.

“To what do I owe the unfortunate pleasure of your attention today ?” He asked wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

[carcosa-lost]

“Owe?”

The Yellow King turns to look at Lucifer. The stare lingers, as Hastur returns his gaze towards the theater.

“I’m the blood of Aldebaran. The shroud of Yhtill. The mask of Carcosa. I am The King in Yellow. I am Hastur.”

Tilting its head, it stares towards the painted mural on the opera house ceiling. Up there are depictions of Lucifer’s fall, the founding of his kingdom. The cities of Pentagram, Dis and even of Jinn.

Was The King looking at these works in awe? Or in scrutiny. It was hard to tell what Hastur was thinking. What he will think or say next.

“I see you in Carcosa. With me.”

The Yellow King turns to Lucifer. It’s black, pitiless voids for eyes staring at Lucifer.

“Carcosa welcomes all. Takes all. You will not want to go, but you shall. One day, you will find yourself in Carcosa.”

[carcosa-lost]

Midnight Silence

@nebula-gaster

The television was consumed with static. Dead asleep, Roth snored deeply and loudly. Several crumpled beer cans were littered around his recliner.

You can hear the faint sounds of the city. The garbage collectors, the midnight train, and the nearby freeway. Next door, a baby cries. Upstairs, you can hear a nervous man pacing around. Downstairs, you can hear rock music. There was noise everywhere.

Then, there was nothing. No sound. No crying. No music. The television set was silent.

Somewhere, in Roth’s apartment was a voice calling to Buzz. It sounded familiar. It was called to him by his living name.

“Alexander.”

The voice called, louder than a whisper. Again, it spoke his name.

“Alexander. Come here.”

[nebula-gaster]

Buzz spent most of his free time sleeping nowadays, his only escape from the persistent migraines of withdrawal. He rarely took pain medication, afraid of getting addicted to that, and so sought to spend as little time awake as possible while still getting his work done. It was a small miracle that he was still coherent enough for that, but he was running on fumes at this point and knew it wouldn't be long before he crashed hard and just gave into despair.

His eyes shot open, and his blood ran cold when he heard someone calling him by his human name. There was something in the apartment, something evil, surely, for what else could pry that out of his mind? At least he woke up with a somewhat clear mind, so he wouldn't be distracted by pain. He slowly crawled off of the couch and stood up, wrapping his blanket around him. "Who... said that?" He was afraid, terrified even, and felt sick because of it.

[carcosa-lost]

“Come here, son.”

The voice was coming from down the hallway. It was familiar, motherly like. Its tone was sing song as it spoke. The sound of laughter follows. It’s teasing Buzz.

“Alexander, come here. Your mother wants to show you. Something.”

Since the voice, the apartment has grown darker. The only source of light was the television screen. Roth was still sleeping.

“Come. Here.”

The voice called out again, now much sterner. The television changes, switching channels. The channels warped into static, blurring together. Soon, it stops on one image. A large mansion in the woods. There was a strange symbol above the doorway.

“Sweetie please. Your mother wants you h e r e.”

The voice beckons Buzz to come down the hallway.

It has something to show him.

[carcosa-lost]

Midnight Silence

@nebula-gaster

The television was consumed with static. Dead asleep, Roth snored deeply and loudly. Several crumpled beer cans were littered around his recliner.

You can hear the faint sounds of the city. The garbage collectors, the midnight train, and the nearby freeway. Next door, a baby cries. Upstairs, you can hear a nervous man pacing around. Downstairs, you can hear rock music. There was noise everywhere.

Then, there was nothing. No sound. No crying. No music. The television set was silent.

Somewhere, in Roth’s apartment was a voice calling to Buzz. It sounded familiar. It was called to him by his living name.

“Alexander.”

The voice called, louder than a whisper. Again, it spoke his name.

“Alexander. Come here.”

[scritchingandscratchingonpaper]

Have you seen the yellow sign?

[laviniaoftheangels]

"The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

[frankencain]

The Court of the Dragon from The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers, 1895