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@dr-draven-atlas
The moth creature beckons you to come closer.
Hey guys!! This is my ask blog for my silly OC, Dr. Atlas! Feel free to ask any questions, whether it be roleplay or lore! Rules and character stuff below the cut!
Quick note: this blog no longer associates with Pressure. Fuck you Zeal. Go to hell.
Banner picture made by @crow19182282 !
CORDELIA??? WHEN THE FART DID YOU GET TUMBLR????
@dr-draven-atlas
When I cut off my weird ass parents
I was peeking at my friend’s tumblr page in high school tho, the friend my parents told me to stay away from
Ooohhhh ok
Hey chud
- @sentinel27
GUH
HIIIIII I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD TUMBLR
(I'm so sorry I never saw this sob)
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Hm. Clever, are you?
It is a little something that I learned from an old friend. One can understand one's new friend more by allowing said friend to carry the conversation. There is more to that idea... but it is not relevant right now.
You know, Dr. Atlas, you look a bit like the 'atlas moth' that somebody showed Me recently. You are one of them, yes?
Dr. Atlas nods. He is still unwilling to meet the King's gaze.
"I didn't used to be. It was an unfortunate accident at a past workplace, but that was very long ago."
Interesting. You do not have the... appetite of a typical moth, correct?
Another nod. At least he's not as terrified as before.
"I literally can't eat, so I carry around a liquefied, injectable diet supplement that supplies all the nutrients my body needs. Sucks since I hate needles, but what needs to be done needs to be done. I'm sure you'd understand that."
Good, good. Yes, Carcosa once had a citizen who could not eat 'normally,' though she used a feeding tube, not a needle. Interesting what people will do to take care of their bodies, no?
"Yeah, most people prefer not dying to finding out what's on the other side. Luckily I know what that is, and I'm not afraid of it anymore. Still don't wanna die, though."
Dr. Atlas doesn't provide any more context. He doesn't think he needs to, considering who he's talking to.
I assume we have differing ideas of 'what is on the other side.' But either way, I must agree. I would do anything not to go there once more.
"You and me both. At least that's one experience we can agree on. Dying SUCKS."
Dr. Atlas looks as if he's trying to look disturbed, but he really just looks kind of like he has to use the bathroom. Expressions are hard when you have the equivalent of Spider-Man's mask on at all times.
(The King in Yellow smiles faintly, a broad show of amusement for Him.)
'Dying' and 'arriving on the other side' are not the same, Dr. Atlas. I cannot say whether or not dying necessarily 'sucks,' but I will forever and always agree that the Dark World the other side is a terrible place.
Dr. Atlas just gives a shrug, his antenna twitching slightly.
"I'm starting to think that our perceptions of the other side are different, but that's honestly about what I expected. We are basically on two different planes of existence."
Dr. Atlas swoops in. He's healed from his concussion by now, and is carrying a notepad instead of his usual text-to-speech pad. He scribbles on the notepad quickly.
"SEBASTIAN YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHO I MET."
"Who'd you meet, Draven?"
"THE MOTHERFUCKING KING IN YELLOW. NOT KIDDING."
Dr. Atlas doesn't seem panicked, as would be expected from meeting an Eldritch horror, but more excited.
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Hm. Clever, are you?
It is a little something that I learned from an old friend. One can understand one's new friend more by allowing said friend to carry the conversation. There is more to that idea... but it is not relevant right now.
You know, Dr. Atlas, you look a bit like the 'atlas moth' that somebody showed Me recently. You are one of them, yes?
Dr. Atlas nods. He is still unwilling to meet the King's gaze.
"I didn't used to be. It was an unfortunate accident at a past workplace, but that was very long ago."
Interesting. You do not have the... appetite of a typical moth, correct?
Another nod. At least he's not as terrified as before.
"I literally can't eat, so I carry around a liquefied, injectable diet supplement that supplies all the nutrients my body needs. Sucks since I hate needles, but what needs to be done needs to be done. I'm sure you'd understand that."
Good, good. Yes, Carcosa once had a citizen who could not eat 'normally,' though she used a feeding tube, not a needle. Interesting what people will do to take care of their bodies, no?
"Yeah, most people prefer not dying to finding out what's on the other side. Luckily I know what that is, and I'm not afraid of it anymore. Still don't wanna die, though."
Dr. Atlas doesn't provide any more context. He doesn't think he needs to, considering who he's talking to.
I assume we have differing ideas of 'what is on the other side.' But either way, I must agree. I would do anything not to go there once more.
"You and me both. At least that's one experience we can agree on. Dying SUCKS."
Dr. Atlas looks as if he's trying to look disturbed, but he really just looks kind of like he has to use the bathroom. Expressions are hard when you have the equivalent of Spider-Man's mask on at all times.
The Revenant Guardsman, Christmas Tree returns again, sliding over a dried apple snack, using his rotted hand. He seems once again, friendly.
Dr. Atlas tilts his head in confusion but takes it anyways, for once wishing he still had a mouth. Apples were his favorite back then.
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Hm. Clever, are you?
It is a little something that I learned from an old friend. One can understand one's new friend more by allowing said friend to carry the conversation. There is more to that idea... but it is not relevant right now.
You know, Dr. Atlas, you look a bit like the 'atlas moth' that somebody showed Me recently. You are one of them, yes?
Dr. Atlas nods. He is still unwilling to meet the King's gaze.
"I didn't used to be. It was an unfortunate accident at a past workplace, but that was very long ago."
Interesting. You do not have the... appetite of a typical moth, correct?
Another nod. At least he's not as terrified as before.
"I literally can't eat, so I carry around a liquefied, injectable diet supplement that supplies all the nutrients my body needs. Sucks since I hate needles, but what needs to be done needs to be done. I'm sure you'd understand that."
Good, good. Yes, Carcosa once had a citizen who could not eat 'normally,' though she used a feeding tube, not a needle. Interesting what people will do to take care of their bodies, no?
"Yeah, most people prefer not dying to finding out what's on the other side. Luckily I know what that is, and I'm not afraid of it anymore. Still don't wanna die, though."
Dr. Atlas doesn't provide any more context. He doesn't think he needs to, considering who he's talking to.
Orange eyes glow from above. Dr. Atlas has returned, bearing gifts; trinkets, insect samples, etc.
@dr-draven-atlas
Ah, thank you for the gifts, Dr. Atlas! I do not suppose you brought any mayfly samples? They happen to be my favorite insects.
"Yes, actually. They're one of my favorites, too."
Dr. Atlas displayed a framed sample of male and female mayflies, looking like he was smiling, but it was hard to tell since he didn't have a mouth.
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Hm. Clever, are you?
It is a little something that I learned from an old friend. One can understand one's new friend more by allowing said friend to carry the conversation. There is more to that idea... but it is not relevant right now.
You know, Dr. Atlas, you look a bit like the 'atlas moth' that somebody showed Me recently. You are one of them, yes?
Dr. Atlas nods. He is still unwilling to meet the King's gaze.
"I didn't used to be. It was an unfortunate accident at a past workplace, but that was very long ago."
Interesting. You do not have the... appetite of a typical moth, correct?
Another nod. At least he's not as terrified as before.
"I literally can't eat, so I carry around a liquefied, injectable diet supplement that supplies all the nutrients my body needs. Sucks since I hate needles, but what needs to be done needs to be done. I'm sure you'd understand that."
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Hm. Clever, are you?
It is a little something that I learned from an old friend. One can understand one's new friend more by allowing said friend to carry the conversation. There is more to that idea... but it is not relevant right now.
You know, Dr. Atlas, you look a bit like the 'atlas moth' that somebody showed Me recently. You are one of them, yes?
Dr. Atlas nods. He is still unwilling to meet the King's gaze.
"I didn't used to be. It was an unfortunate accident at a past workplace, but that was very long ago."
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
The King in Yellow, Hastur, John Doe... though 'Your Majesty' always works as well.
If you do not mind My asking, what are you doing here, Dr. Atlas?
"Why so many questions if you already know it all, your majesty?"
Dr. Atlas isn't angered, but moreso confused. He isn't as oblivious as those who have come before him. His antenna twitched slightly.
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
Hm. Be not afraid, friend; I would never intentionally hurt anyone.
Slowly starting to relax, the creature lowers itself to the ground. It seems hesitant at first, but begins to sign shakily.
"I am Dr. Atlas. What may I call you?"
Dust rains down from above. Wingbeats billow over the golden king. An orange glow- no, two- emanates from the darkness. Something is here, watching.
@dr-draven-atlas
(MOD HERE HIII HELLO)
Hello there... friend. And who might you be?
The creature swoops down from above, nothing but a bright orange blur against the darkest shadows. It makes no sound but the message it sends is clear. Fear. Pure, deep-seated fear, as old as time itself.
(mod note: draven can't actually talk as he has no mouth like most moths but I'm assuming here that tkiy knows sign language) (don't ask how he eats. Still figuring that out)
A very, very concussed moth-person flies around a nearby light source, occasionally bumping into it. They seemed very confused.
@dr-draven-atlas
Roscoe watches the moth-person fluttering about, eyebrows raised in an expression that was both wary and confused himself. After watching for a few moments, he sighs.
This'd be funny if it weren't kinda sad.
Hey, pal, I don't think that's doin' ya any good. You, uh, you might wanna just gets down from there fer a bit? Namely cus if'n ya keeps doin' that, ya might break summat. Like the light. Or yer head.
Dr. Atlas looked down and made a chittering noise, as if he suddenly remembered that he was a human person and not a bug. Well, sort of. He couldn't really say anything without his text to speech pad, and it was especially bad considering that almost all the usable paper products in the Blacksite were ruined and waterlogged. At the moment, though, all he could think about was how bad his head hurt.
Roscoe frowns, a look of mild confusion at the chittering noise that he had no doubt was meant to be words, just not words he could understand. Not for the first time since he'd made the mistake of making that infernal deal, he wishes he'd not fell out of practice with sign language...
With a sigh, he reaches into the small bag at his side, rummaging around before pulling out a small notepad, pen tied tightly to one of the metal rings along it's spine. He then holds the notepad out towards Dr. Atlas.
'Ere, since talkin's kinda a necessity down 'ere. Now, 'ows yer 'ead? I would thinks it's prob'ly bit sore rights 'bout now.
Dr. Atlas nodded and took the notepad gratefully, trying not to look at the light. He wrote on the notepad shakily, squinting slightly. Thank God his eyes glowed, he'd be in trouble otherwise.
"Thank you, Roscoe. You're very kind. Do you know of any blackout rooms nearby? I don't want to space out again like I was doing a second ago. It's a side effect of, y'know, being a moth and all, and it's really not helping with the head trauma."
Eh, s'no problem. Just doin' what's right, is all. I'll just thief another 'un when I'm topside next.
Blackout room, blackout room...Ah. Think was one a few rooms back, but uh, not sure hows many, I was a bit busy runnin' after nearly gettin' jumped by them plant people. I can tries ta help ya find it?
once again trying to remind u that this post exists and I hope you're sleeping well C:
A very, very concussed moth-person flies around a nearby light source, occasionally bumping into it. They seemed very confused.
@dr-draven-atlas
Roscoe watches the moth-person fluttering about, eyebrows raised in an expression that was both wary and confused himself. After watching for a few moments, he sighs.
This'd be funny if it weren't kinda sad.
Hey, pal, I don't think that's doin' ya any good. You, uh, you might wanna just gets down from there fer a bit? Namely cus if'n ya keeps doin' that, ya might break summat. Like the light. Or yer head.
Dr. Atlas looked down and made a chittering noise, as if he suddenly remembered that he was a human person and not a bug. Well, sort of. He couldn't really say anything without his text to speech pad, and it was especially bad considering that almost all the usable paper products in the Blacksite were ruined and waterlogged. At the moment, though, all he could think about was how bad his head hurt.
Roscoe frowns, a look of mild confusion at the chittering noise that he had no doubt was meant to be words, just not words he could understand. Not for the first time since he'd made the mistake of making that infernal deal, he wishes he'd not fell out of practice with sign language...
With a sigh, he reaches into the small bag at his side, rummaging around before pulling out a small notepad, pen tied tightly to one of the metal rings along it's spine. He then holds the notepad out towards Dr. Atlas.
'Ere, since talkin's kinda a necessity down 'ere. Now, 'ows yer 'ead? I would thinks it's prob'ly bit sore rights 'bout now.
Dr. Atlas nodded and took the notepad gratefully, trying not to look at the light. He wrote on the notepad shakily, squinting slightly. Thank God his eyes glowed, he'd be in trouble otherwise.
"Thank you, Roscoe. You're very kind. Do you know of any blackout rooms nearby? I don't want to space out again like I was doing a second ago. It's a side effect of, y'know, being a moth and all, and it's really not helping with the head trauma."
Eh, s'no problem. Just doin' what's right, is all. I'll just thief another 'un when I'm topside next.
Blackout room, blackout room...Ah. Think was one a few rooms back, but uh, not sure hows many, I was a bit busy runnin' after nearly gettin' jumped by them plant people. I can tries ta help ya find it?
"That would be greatly appreciated. I'm not exactly in the right headspace at the moment, as you could probably tell, and I don't think I could navigate on my own."
Dr. Atlas scribbled on the notepad, his handwriting being much messier than it normally was. He was the only one that really noticed, but he still felt a little self-conscious that he could barely write currently.
Christmas Tree, the revenant guardsman, stares at you. He's staring at you because he's hungry. But you don't know that. He looks.. friendly??
(and here's basically a doodle of it) :)
Dr. Atlas stares back in confusion. Having broken his text-to-speech pad, he couldn't exactly say anything, but still. He started to back up slowly, knowing the general nature of the revenants that had started popping up, but not really knowing why he wasn't being attacked. Maybe this one was still partially conscious, not unlike the Crooked.
(mod note don't yell at me for inaccuracies I didn't read up that much on the newer entities, currently on a Roblox hiatus)
