Entities getting fed up with them and deciding to get them out of the way, that’s how! This ask blog includes characters from Call Of Cthulu, The Sinking City, Spooky’s House of Jumpscares, Age of Evil (Duke Nukem Mod), The Chzo Mythos, Outlast, and a single OC World. Also two characters can see the fourth wall because why not.
story
asks
arc
character intro
info
[ Unwilling Guide ] Trilby
[ No Good Choices ] Charles Reed
Info
Somewhere between realms sits a seemingly empty expanse, a void left untouched and unneeded for eras. A place where only the powerful and eldritch have any control. A group of beings have realized: This place could be useful for tying up… loose ends. So who will end up here? What impact will this have? We’ll find out shortly.
Trilby had kept a close eye on the newest member of this. Ragtag little group as him and Charles lead them to Oakmont, for answers and. Preferably a shower for the poor blood covered thing. Probably the shower first. They smelled like rot and b.o.
White nothingness turned to the edge of the city, and then the hotel, with Charles occasionally sending Trilby judgemental glances, as if he was the weird one for being uneasy about the blood covered axe wielder, especially a blood covered axe wielder who looked suspiciously like the description of a bloodthirsty killer.
"Do you think there might be clothes in any of the hotel rooms?" Trilby asked, "Or maybe in the laundry? I doubt either of our clothes are going to fit them and we can't leave them in those."
"I guess we'll see." Charles shrugged, heading to the laundry room. The mysterious new addition to their group never put down the axe. The blood off of it that scrapped onto the floor looked... Strange. Not human, to Trilby's eyes. While they followed Charles to look for something clean to wear he crouched down to look at it.
It smelled of sulfur. And reflected no light.
What had their little guest been battling before this?
Hell, what were they? From their gaunt frame and sunken face, the clear muscle atrophy despite dragging that axe around, infected looking injuries that didn't seem to be healing properly, all Trilby could think is that this person should be long dead and in the ground.
Any human in that bad of shape should not be up and moving.
The file on 'Specimen 14' was in the back of his head, along with his own experiences from the ministry, rescued victims of cults who's bodies has persevered out of adrenaline and spite, who wasted away in the first days of freedom came to mind. Beyond saving.
Were they cleaning and clothing a lost cause?
How cruel was it to think of a person like that? Had his time with the ministry separated him that far from the rest of humanity?
Maybe Charles was right to look at him the way he had.
"Nothing for clothes in the la-what are you doing?" Charles came back out, Trilby quickly got up and brushed himself off, ignoring the heavily judgemental squint of the silent person behind the detective.
"Nothing."
Their guest pointed at the blood, then Trilby, and made an exaggerated show of sniffing, a puzzled look on their face. The charade worked well enough for Trilby to understand the silent 'Were you sniffing the blood?'
A bit judgemental coming from the one who dragged it through the lobby.
"... It looked weird." He stated.
"... I hope the hospital is somewhere in this. Reproduction." Charles sighed, "For both of you."
"I didn't touch it!" Trilby felt he really was not behaving that strangely all things considered. And he was quite tired of being judged.
"... Okay we can. We can talk about blood later, let's just keep looking for clothes right now." Charles said, staring at the trail for a second before tearing his eyes away and heading towards the rooms.
It took searching a few rooms before they found some clothes that would fit Pag well enough. Sure, clothes that looked like they were from the 20s, so not really Pag's normal style, but it was something clean, and they couldn't be happier for that. Charles grabbed them a towel, like five wash clothes, and as much soap and shampoo as he could find from the laundry and supply closets, while Terence mainly just judgementally side eyed them. They left their axe in the room the clothes were found in, and went to shower.
... Apparently this hotel was stuck in the past, or just really sucked, because there was no hot water. Pag mourned their dreams of warm water melting the grime of the mansion off of them, and just accepted they'd have to settle for this.
Even if it wasn't warm, the running water was... Such a relief.
Clean, running water, that smelled clean, and didn't leave them feeling slightly slimy when they touched it.
Before they even grabbed the soap they probably spent five or so minutes just... Standing in the shower. They could've cried.
They probably spent well over an hour taking the time to get as much of the grime and ick and everything off, and just. Finally being in a situation where they did not have to immediately be ready to react to a threat. Even clean, their hair was still a knotted mess, but it was a *clean* knotted mess, there wasn't dried blood stuck to them, they weren't covered in dirt. At one point they sat on the floor of the shower and just did cry. Cried and cried until their head hurt and the weight of the dread and fear they'd carried for so long had lightened some.
And then they stayed in there even longer just to avoid facing Charles and Terence, who apparently knew about specimen 14. Who they had to convince they weren't what the CAT-DOS files claimed. Or more impossibly even, try to lie and convince them that Pag and 14 weren't the same person at all.
But if they could pull that off, maybe they could be treated like a normal person again. Finally. Someone could look at them again and see a person before anything else.
It was worth a shot at least.
They finally convinced themself to get out of the shower and face the rest of the world... Or the rest of the void? Was it a void? There was stuff here. So maybe not? Well, the rest of this place.
They opted to leave their axe in the room before they walked back into the lobby to see the other two talking. Terence had a... Brush and a pair of scissors for some reason. Charles had a pencil and a couple notebooks.
They waved, and that caught Charles' attention.
"Hey, are you feeling better?" They nodded, and he smiled, he seemed the more approachable of the two.
"I noticed your hair is a bit. Tangled. I found these." Terence showed the brush and scissors.
Oh. That's what he had them for. Maybe Pag judged him too quickly... They had shown up literally covered in blood. With an axe. Mistrust was probably the sane reaction. Made them wonder what had Charles so... Desensitized to stuff like this to just automatically assume they didn't mean any harm. Not that they didn't appreciate it.
He continued, "I've been cutting my own hair for a while, so I could help if it'd be easier to just cut out the knotted parts?"
They were. Surprised. Very surprised. They thought for a moment before nodding, they'd never been good with scissors, and even if it weren't for the matts and knots their hair was horribly damaged.
Trilby watched the person in front of him seemingly go through several emotions internally, before his offer was responded to with a smile and a nod.
He got out of the chair he was sitting in and moved it forward so he could stand behind it, he watched as they walked over and sat down. They looked... So harmless now. Just a normal person with matted hair, too gaunt and exhausted seeming to even be envisioned holding that axe. The injuries he'd seen earlier were more covered in their new, non-tattered clothes, but from where they did show, he saw quite a few of them looked like... They were made with claws of some sort, but as he got starting on their hair, trying to feel what he could untangle and what had to be cut out, he noticed it seemed like... They'd had things injected into their neck, fairly often, and the injection sites weren't allowed to heal before being exposed to whatever unclean environment they seemingly came from. There also seemed to be bruises and scrapes, and he could see peaking out from the collar of their shirt what looked like scarring from an extreme case of road rash, like they'd been thrown into or across concrete with great force.
In truth his offer to help with their hair wasn't fully selfless. He wanted a closer look at... Whatever the hell was going on with them, without setting off the paranoia they clearly had, or making them feel accused. They didn't seem malicious, but they did seem jumpy. He didn't expect them to respond well to over the top prodding, not from near strangers at least. They didn't seem to fully realize how bizarre this entire situation was, and Trilby could only begin to guess what they had been through to make them so... Unbothered wasn't the word, persistent? Intent on moving forward, following the most logical path in spite of whatever they were being presented with.
He made a mental note that they seemed feverish. Another nail in the coffin that they should not be as okay as they are.
Once their hair was brushed and cut, it'd gone from being a decent way down their back to just barely touching their neck, he'd managed to brush more of it out than he'd expected, but still had to cut off quite a bit to make it even, and to remove enough damaged hair that it would hopefully be able to regrow healthily.
By the time he was done they looked... Much more relaxed, like a weight was off their shoulders. Trilby couldn't blame them. When he'd gotten out of the hospital after the events at Clanbronwyn Hotel, being able to shower in his own house felt like finally in some capacity getting to wash the whole situation off of him. So he could understand how much of a relief this must have been for them.
Finally, while Trilby was sweeping up the hair, the notebook and pencil were placed in their hands, and they had a start as to who this person was and why they were here.
'My name is Pag, I'm not really sure where or what this place is. I don't think I'm in the mansion anymore, am I?'
Oh. Mansions. Fun. What sort of mansion had Pag been in that they could mistake... An endless white expanse sparsely dotted with scenery as the inside of a building?
"No, you're not. I'm afraid neither me or Terence are quite sure what this place is either, but it seems like some... Space in between dimensions? Is that what you said?"
"Yes, or time maybe." Trilby said, "Could you tell us how you ended up here?"
Pag looked. A bit uneasy at that, pausing before, 'I was being chased and I tripped, and then I was here. I think the thing chasing me sent me here somehow.' There was another pause, before quite a bit of writing, 'I'm not sure how long ago now, but it has to have been a while, I went to look into this mansion in my home town, there were rumors that nobody ever returned from it and I wanted to find out why. This is going to sound absolutely insane but you need to believe me, it's not a normal mansion, it's some sort of moving labyrinth or something that a ghost is using to try to create a ghost army. It's full of monsters and demons and things to try to kill people in horrific enough ways that their souls are tethered to the living realm, I'm the only victim of that place still alive right now, I was getting close to figuring out how to shut it all down for good, and then I got sent here.'
That was, in fact, the most insane thing Trilby had heard since he arrived... But... Him and Charles exchanged a look that let him know they were thinking the same thing.
"... We both came from. Similarly impossible situations, but shortly after we got here, we found a computer that had these 'CAT-DOS' files, and documents about some organization called GL Labs, it sounds. Related to what you're describing." Charles said. Trilby couldn't tell if Pag looked horrified or relieved. Maybe both.
'That's in the mansion, I think they're trying to create new monsters, CAT-DOS is the operating system they use. There were these computers that ran on it, I know the mansion changes shape because there were options to change the layout, but I couldn't get into those options.' They were writing quicker now, 'I don't think it works perfectly though, I got into some regions after the elevator broke that I wasn't supposed to.'
"... And you thought this might be part of that mansion?" Charles asked.
'There was another mansion in there, and a hospital, and a weird house, and a bunch of other stuff. It honestly wouldn't be the weirdest thing.' Pag explained.
"A... Mansion in a mansion?" Trilby asked.
'You two didn't read many of those CAT-DOS files, did you?'
"... They weren't in order when we found them, there's. A lot to sort through." He admitted, "Maybe you could help us, since you know more than us about that specific portion?"
There was a pause from them, before a nod, 'Yeah I could do that.'
Charles seemed to think for a moment before, "Have you ever seen specimen 14?"
Pag's heart dropped to their stomach. They knew, they knew, they had to know. They hoped their panic didn't show on their face, they quickly came up with what they hoped was a convincing lie, 'I actually stole my axe from them. They're just a human so I managed to wrestle it away from them and run for it... Honestly I feel bad for them, but I needed a way to defend myself.'
They studied Charles and Trilby's faces, they seemed to buy it. Probably because Pag didn't seem like the description of 14 that file gave. They hoped.
"... I would imagine that'd be needed in a place like that." Trilby finally said. Charles nodded, and Pag felt a weight lift off their shoulders.
They didn't quite know where they were, why, or how to get back, but for the first time in ages, they were clean, safe, and nobody thought they were a monster.
Their steps echoed as they stumbled, ran, axe dragging behind them. One thing that doll couldn't heal was exhaustion, one thing it couldn't fix was the dried blood that stained Pag's clothes and skin. But they were almost done. Almost done and maybe they could end this all if they just kept moving, static and radio music from nowhere filled their head, they desperately dodged and swung at those freaky deer. Keep moving, keep moving. Don't fall don't trip keep moving, stillness is death here. 8 is right there, they can hear his whispers as he chases them, no longer viewing them as a fellow specimen, viewing them as prey.
And they could see it, they could see the doorway to the room with the hell portal, just at the end of the woods, and-
How was there a root in fake woods?
How long ago did the soles of their shoes begin to peel off?
The rubber caught on the root and sent them onto the ground, axe flung from their hand, and they covered their head awaiting a blow of unseen claws when-
Nothing came. And they realized it didn't feel like they were laying on dirt anymore, if it ever was dirt to begin with.
They opened their eyes, and saw. White. They sat up, more white, and their axe a handful of feet away. Their breathing was shaky as they tried not to panic, and tried to understand where they were.
They were so. Fucking. Close.
Why?
Why was it that every time they seemed closer to escape they ended up in an entire new hell?
Did Spooky get tired of them sticking their nose where it didn't belong?
What would be waiting for them here?
They sniffled, not that tears would do any good but god they were so. So tired.
They heard voices and tensed up, GL Lab Assistants? Had to be, what other humans would be in the mansion?
Was Pag still in the mansion?
They looked behind themself and saw two people that. Did not look anything like lab workers in the distance. One was shorter, with medium brown hair, a fedora, and a large coat, seemingly with formal wear underneath.
The other man was taller and more slender, a well kept three piece suit on, and as far as Pag was concerned, because they had never in their life heard of a trilby, also wearing a fedora.
"They look kinda like the person mentioned in those files." They heard the shorter one say. Their eyes widened, these people knew them as 14, they were going to try to hurt them, they thought they were a monster.
They scrambled upright and went to run for the axe, the shorter one began to say something about not wanting to hurt them, but the taller one was surprisingly quick on his feet and before they knew it they were tackled back to the ground, trying to thrash this person off of them.
"Terence-Terence stop they're crying! Jesus Christ get off them!"
'Terence' looked down, noticed the tears streaming down their face, and did get off their back, but also got between them and their only weapon.
The shorter man shot him a glare and offered Pag a hand, "Are you okay? I'm Charles. I'm. Sorry about my friend here. We saw the axe and I guess he jumped the gun." Pag did hesitantly accept the help up, looking between the two anxiously.
"... I'm. Sorry. Did I hurt you?" Terence looked a bit embarrassed, or annoyed, they couldn't tell really, but still didn't move from between them and the axe.
They shook their head no, 'I'm okay, I think, where are we?' They signed, only for the puzzled looks on both men's faces to reveal they were now stuck here with two people who did not speak ASL and still no closer to freedom.
"... You wouldn't happen to also know BSL, would you?" Terence asked. Pag squinted at him and shook their head. "... We left the notebook in the library didn't we?" He asked Charles.
"If you come with us we can get you a shower and something to write on." The shorter man offered. Pag hesitated, before walking behind Terence, much to both's discomfort picking up the axe, and nodding happily.
They still weren't sure if they could trust these people, but they would absolutely kill for a nice hot shower.
[ Pag Bay, the specimen, has arrived in the pocket dimension ]
It had been. A rather short stroll actually when Trilby swore he saw something in the distance, what almost looked like a portion of a city jutting out of the endless white expanse. Before he could point it out to his fellow investigator Charles spoke,
"Is that Oakmont??" He took off towards the city, and Trilby quickly followed.
The city was... Impressive for appearing out of nowhere in a void. Albeit mostly flooded and appearing to almost be in ruins.
"... This isn't the entire city." Charles realized quietly, followed by, "... And some things aren't where they should be. The hotel shouldn't be next to the library."
"Well it's convenient for us, isn't it? Research and rest in one place."
"It's weird though, it's like. You said there was a replica of your work building too, right? It's like these places were put here on purpose..." Charles frowned, "Keep your guard up, we don't know what else is here."
Trilby gave a curt nod, and the two entered the library first, to find-
"... What on earth is that?" Charles asked, staring at a perfectly normal, albeit blocky and old, computer, a bit to the side of the front desk.
"A computer? Haven't you seen one before?" The look he received answered his question for him, "... Charles, what's the year where you're from?"
"1924, what about you?"
"... 2014." The two stood for a moment in equally uncomfortable silence. 90 years between them. And now they were standing in the same bizarre place, with a computer from the late 90s sitting in a library from the 20s.
"... I am. So tired of things beyond my comprehension." Trilby couldn't help but agree with his companion's whispered sentiment.
He however, still needed to figure out what was going on. If it was possible these locations were here for a reason, then it was possible this computer was as well. He walked over, powering on the monitor and tower, and was... Slightly confused when he didn't have to manually connect it to the internet. Or that there even *was* internet, but the little icon in the bottom corner indicated a connection. And-
A window popped up.
A window with a file, seemingly a summary on one 'Specimen 14'.
"... Didn't the radio mention this?" Charles asked.
"I think so."
The photo was of a human(was it human? It had to be, right?) with red eyes that almost seemed to glow, even in a photo the intensity of that stare sent a shiver down Trilby's spine.
The file listed the type as active, total fatalities at 38, and the method as 'chopping', which made sense considering the axe in their hands.
"A human being with an axe. While it does not appear threatening at first, extended time in the mansion has led this specimen to a state of madness where it seems to have lost its morals and become a mindless killing machine. Anyone who approaches it is met with immediate aggression and violence, as several GL Labs personnel have found out the hard way. Proven effective, only slightly more than previous specimen, likely due to subjects lowering their guard when faced with another human, if this specimen can be called that anymore..." Trilby frowned as he read.
"... That's awful... What's. GL Labs?"
"No idea, hopefully we won't find out."
"Does the uhm-what did you call it?"
"Computer."
"Right, does it have anything else on it?" Charles was looking over Trilby's shoulder, clearly confused by this box that seemingly showed images and text from nowhere.
"... Let me see." Opening the files, on a hunch, Trilby went to the documents section.
His stomach dropped.
He recognized far too many of these as his own work. And there were others that, if he had to guess, were likely written by Chris. Nobody else would name a government file 'Stupid fucking paperwork'. Not to mention the amount of classified documents on the Ancients. As he scrolled further down he found copies of newspapers from Oakmont, and some place called Darkwater. After that were... More of those 'CAT-DOS' files, a PDF of a book titled 'Biography Of Caspian Bay', and several files of seemingly news articles, all titled as being written by one Miles Upshur.
"... There's so much here." Charles whispered.
"... It does give us a place to start, this all has to be connected somehow." Trilby was mainly trying to assure himself.
If it wasn't connected he would have no clue what to do from here.
That thought was terrifying.
"Okay. I'll find some paper and a pencil, and we'll start going through things and taking notes."
"Sounds like a plan." Trilby agreed, and watched Charles walk off to grab said items.
Trilby elected that he couldn't stay in the duplicate of his office forever. Or in the portion of the ministry building that seemed to fade into nonexistence around it.
He had to find where he was and how to return. Before the evil triumphed. Before he failed.
It was a while of walking through the seemingly endless white expanse before he did find something.
Another person.
A tired looking man in a trenchcoat with brown hair and a fedora, holding a radio. As Trilby got closer he heard that the channels the man was flipping through seemed... More akin to overheard conversations than talk shows.
"So what? I'm supposed to sit back and let someone else handle this?"
"Yes, Kyou, you are. You're a child, and you almost died-"
-Click-
"Who... Are you three? Anyway?"
"The Stickymen!"
"No-no we are not. Lynx that's an awful name."
"She was just kidding please don't call us that."
-Click-
Suddenly the radio emitted an awful noise of piercing static, that felt less like that of a radio and more like a TV on max volume. It caused the other man to throw the radio in shock, and Trilby to clench his jaw so hard he could feel the intrusive sound reverberating in his teeth.
Underneath he could hear voices, just barely.
"Jesus Christ-Miles have you been shot?!"
"It doesn't matter just drive! We need to get out of here-"
Trilby couldn't stop himself from running over and grabbing the radio, just to switch it off and stop that awful noise. Looking at the other man up close he swore his eyes were glowing some. His stomach twisted as he realized his gun was out of ammo and the grolly was foolishly left in the office replica.
"Who are you?!" The man demanded, scrambling upright and grabbing-a brick out of his trenchcoat?!
"Why would I tell you?" Trilby backed up, holding the radio as if it could even be remotely useful as a makeshift weapon.
"Listen just- just put my radio down and step back, this doesn't have to get violent."
Trilby didn't want to, really. It'd leave him more vulnerable than he already was and there wasn't really anywhere to hide in an endless white expanse. But the alternative was bring a radio to a brick fight. So he did place the item on the ground, and slowly put distance between them, hands in the air.
The other grabbed the radio back, "So, once again, who are you?" He asked.
"... Terence Railby. What about you?" Better to go with the fake name for now.
"... Charles Reed. Do you got any clue where we are, Mr.Railby?"
"I was hoping you would." Great. So he's still as square one, only he's also being threatened with a brick.
"No idea. One minute I was in Oakmont, then I wake up here..." Charles put the brick away, and Trilby lowered his arms.
Trilby had no clue where or what Oakmont was.
"I was at Stonehenge, then I was... Falling." Nice to know Chzo could've dropped him in here closer to the ground. Damned eldritch asshat.
"Stonehenge? All the way in England?"
"Is Oakmont all the way in the US?"
"Yes, actually." Charles confirmed, "... Had. Anything... Otherworldly been going on where you were...?"
"Something to that effect." Well there's their first clue, this place is likely connected to other places via occult means.
"... Eldritch gods?"
"You too?"
"I think so. So... We've been sent here as. Some sort of punishment?" Charles had a good head on his shoulders. At least Trilby wasn't stuck here with an idiot.
"Or maybe to get us out of the way, I'm assuming since you know about whatever was happening in Oakmont that you were investigating it? Maybe trying to stop it?" Charles nodded. "Thought so... Did you have the radio before you ended up here?"
"No, it was nearby when I woke up." He turned the dial to get it off the static and clicked it on, the voice that came out was jarringly familiar. Ancients how Trilby had missed that voice. He thought Chris had been killed by those creatures, why else would they have used his form against Trilby?
"-I'm not sure how to fix what's going on on a wide scale, but that rift closing should help a lot of it, mate."
"We really can't thank you enough."
"Well... Maybe you can-"
-Click-
"Spooky herself told me not to send anyone after Specimen 14. She's taken it upon herself to retrieve them."
"They're in the dollhouse, Bernard."
"... I am aware."
"They're getting close to the generator-"
"And Woormy Charles will tear them apart before they get past it if Spooky fails-"
"Wait!" Trilby exclaimed, "Go back one!" Charles gave him a confused look but obliged the request.
-Click-
"His name is Terence Railby. Black hair, formalware, always has a Trilby on. I have reason to believe he would have come through here."
"Before the rift had opened, yes. He bought some supplies and stopped at the hospital."
"Did he mention where he was going?"
"He was writing in a notebook when he was in here, I think I saw Stonehenge in there a few times."
"That's what I thought... Well, I better head that way if I want any hope of catching him."
"I hope your friend's okay." The shopkeep's remark earned a chuckle full of uncharacteristic fear and anxiety from Chris.
"You and me both."
The signal faded into static, and the two were left there for a moment before Charles switched the radio back off.
"... A friend of yours?"
"... Yes." More than that. So much more. Not that Trilby would admit it, not that he hadn't already ruined it and now left Chris to face the shadow alone. And while Chris was capable and knowledgeable, and had far more experience with apocalyptic threats than anyone else in the ministry, he was still reckless and hardheaded and Trilby didn't know if he'd be able to face the threats ahead of him alone.
"Do you think he might be able to find us? And bring us back? We might not be stuck here." Charles sounded hopeful.
"Maybe." He hoped not. He hoped Chris won what he couldn't, stopped the shadow and sent Chzo's ugly face turned back to the realm of magick. Even if it meant dying in this endless expanse, at least the world would be safe. At least Chris would be safe. Even if Trilby felt it was terribly likely he'd already lost everyone else he cared for. Maybe Chris could survive this.
Trilby took a deep breath, shoved his emotions back down, and to distract himself from thoughts of Chris alone in that hell, focused on the dilemma in front of him, "But we can't count on that. Have you found anything besides the radio?"
"I... Haven't looked yet honestly."
"It'd be a good start, come on. Let's start moving."
To the mun: Holy Sh!t! Someone who knows both the Chzo Mythos games AND The Sinking City?!? I have been blessed today 🥰
~~🐉 Anon
Mod Moth here, I’m glad you like the blog!! It’s actually a collaborative effort between me and my best friend Mod Ly! It’s on a bit of a hiatus at the moment because my life is a train wreck and a half recently, and my tablet is broken so anything on my end will probably be writing or illustrated by Mod Ly,
We plan to add characters from two more games, another Chzo Mythos character(not from the xdays series but still a canon character technically), and someone from Ly’s original universe!
Ngl most of my Sinking City knowledge is through Ly because I want to first experience the game playing it myself, but it’s a super cool game(why I wanna experience it firsthand) and I think Charles is just 10/10.
Here’s a photo I made because I thought it had the same vibes as Charles, to thank you for liking the blog!
It looks like Charles got up and is currently occupying his mind by messing with a radio. He’s just flicking through the channels and listening to the conversations coming from each channel.
Doesn’t seem like those voices should be coming from the radio, though... And where did he even get it from?
{ april 2024 update: i redrew this sorry not sorry }
D.... Did Trilby land safely? Is he still falling? (The Trilby intro post has been appearing on my followed tags dash every day for a week is he okay??)
(The words are hard to see so)
‘Weird... this looks just like my office...’
‘D.... did Trilby land safely? Is he still falling?(The Trilby post has been appearing on my follows tag everyday for a week is he okay?)’
I mean.. falling into a white expanse of seemingly nothing, discovering a replica of your office in the middle of it, and then hearing your record player speak to you is pretty jarring... but he has some tranquilizer pills so he’ll be fine. Maybe.
