Silvester Hodge, HOD at the Artefact Storage wing of the Magnus Institute, London. I am at your service for any inquiries, dropoffs and research within my work hours!
// Hi hello! Remember, this is not a real person. This is a character, an rpOC created by me, @nefkyology, and based on the horror fiction podcast The Magnus Archives! Crossovers and cameos may also occur! We like having fun here.
Occasionally, art of the character may be posted. Unless the post caption begins with these -> //, assume they are meant to be real pictures taken by the character(s) themselves!
Keep all this in mind, as well as the fact both character and creator are adults. Thank you!
Whenever Silvester is involved in an interaction with other characters (called Episode for simplicity) that affects his story/relationships/character in a memorable way, it will have a tag
-> "silv h [lowercase title] episode"
Guide to the Episodes
— <- average episode that usually starts and ends with the post linked
— ^ colored <- part of an arc / connected to a character
+ <- episode made entirely/in good majority of multiple parts, usually anonymous asks
Note: to make sure you're reading EVERYTHING from a + episode, click the tag! -> Latest -> scroll from the bottom up / Select a post and check the previews of those in the More Like This.
= <- bonus / filler
÷ <- backstory!
× <- "uncategorised but important"
episode being retconned!
The Episodes
[Silvester meets Immi] — strange paintings
[Silvester meets Michael] — "I should explain moths to the guy with a moth tattoo"
[Silvester "returns" an Artefact] + a pristine blade
[Argument with Eryn] — "I am a femminist, but what the hell?"
[Silvester meets Aaron] — butterfly filing
[Silvester and Eryn make up] — "hatsune mikugnus"
[Silvester fumbles (romantically)] — + "subtle like a punch in the face"
[A strange cabinet?] + "there's an ldm reference in here somewhere"
[Annabelle bothers strikes again] – "I outsmarted your outsmarting!"
^ [New Era of Eryn] – "procedure"
[Silvester brainstorms] – bit by bit
[Nobody likes cleaning] = the thrift episode
-> Eryn's lore and WIP masterpost
[Interactive episode UNFINISHED] × Bad Day
Recordings
Inspired by Eryn's character and the tape recorder "Strings". These are snippets (in no particular order) from the past and future. After reading the linked post, search the tag ON THE BLOG.
[Wandering the fuck around a bus station. This'll work, right? His nearest train station is pretty far from him, and if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. It's been nearly an hour though, he has no clue where he is, given he never ever goes inside here, which is definitely a good thing, and--]
I tried looking it up-- the place we're supposed to be, and.. nothing. I don't know what I expected, but I guess you're right. Anyway-- I didn't think you'd end up coming either, I figured you'd have important stuff to do.
[Wandering the fuck around a bus station. This'll work, right? His nearest train station is pretty far from him, and if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. It's been nearly an hour though, he has no clue where he is, given he never ever goes inside here, which is definitely a good thing, and--]
I tried looking it up-- the place we're supposed to be, and.. nothing. I don't know what I expected, but I guess you're right. Anyway-- I didn't think you'd end up coming either, I figured you'd have important stuff to do.
[Wandering the fuck around a bus station. This'll work, right? His nearest train station is pretty far from him, and if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. It's been nearly an hour though, he has no clue where he is, given he never ever goes inside here, which is definitely a good thing, and--]
That is true! I'll still have to find a hazmat suit, drain the thing, bring the shredder outside so the excess blood doesn't fly everywhere...
Oh wait, it's paper. I can drain it and throw it in a bucket of hydrocloric acid with a lid. You get an evil book bucket and I get a contaminated blood sample. Much more manageable.
Originally I was supposed to host a panel on "How to distinguish items with "bad vibes" from truly cursed/malevolent objects," but I was informed that would lead to... Information on how to find them being released to people who might want to do that. Which is counterproductive.
So I'll just take my pto and check the stands as a visitor.
Originally I was supposed to host a panel on "How to distinguish items with "bad vibes" from truly cursed/malevolent objects," but I was informed that would lead to... Information on how to find them being released to people who might want to do that. Which is counterproductive.
So I'll just take my pto and check the stands as a visitor.
Originally I was supposed to host a panel on "How to distinguish items with "bad vibes" from truly cursed/malevolent objects," but I was informed that would lead to... Information on how to find them being released to people who might want to do that. Which is counterproductive.
So I'll just take my pto and check the stands as a visitor.
Originally I was supposed to host a panel on "How to distinguish items with "bad vibes" from truly cursed/malevolent objects," but I was informed that would lead to... Information on how to find them being released to people who might want to do that. Which is counterproductive.
So I'll just take my pto and check the stands as a visitor.
[Her thumb brushes against the fold of a rosen-pink envelope. Down the chute! She throws it, and listens carefully, as it tumbles down, down, down.]
[Memento Mori. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Skin to plastic, blood to sand. She'd always believed something, anything, came after the after. She turns on her heel.]
"..and, do you think theres a heaven, Sarah?"
[A ragged hand reaches for her face, tucks loose strands of poorly-dyed hair behind her ears. The hand is wrong. The hand is squishy. The hand is all-too-warm.]
"I believe in the illusion of an afterlife."
[The voice, one that commands the hand, gurgles out. Saliva and bile and rotten gums fill the voice with such a disgustingly familiar smell. Cigarettes, cheap ones.]
[She feels poetic, really. It is poetic. They met through death, did they not? And where'd that get them? Dead. Thats the thing with life, noone makes it out alive. Atleast, thats what Beetlejuice said.]
"You're so vague."
[Do you think they regret writing such blasphemes?]
"Right, my job interview starts soon. Twenty-ish minutes, uuh, I think. Wish me luck?"
[The hand reaches back. It retracts into a leathery pocket, not much different from its material. One in the same, both were probably once alive, now dead. Unless thats vegan leather. We all know they cant afford real.]
"Goodluck, Ireland."
"I love you."
[The hand trembles and clutches around a small, cardboard box. Damp and soggy, as Ireland, ever the clumsy one, oh, she'd spilled gin all over Sarahs jacket.]
[It bares its teeth until they bend. The voice, no, the mouth. The head which belongs to the mouth, it nods, in what she'd hope is encouragement.]
"Rather."
[And with harsh footsteps, it leaves. Faster than it'd shown up. Its shoes are as ugly as its face, as its fake eyes and teeth and hair. As its plastic and faux fingernails, featureless.]
[She chuckles. We both know it cant feel encouragement as us humans do. It doesnt care for her. Still, let the girl hope.
