#queue them free

[abifurcatedheart-a]

Let us not be coy. I will not let us drag this corpse of civilisation into a new century. Come new year's eve, I will fling the last switches and unshackle the full power of the machine.

Farming The World (Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs)

[abifurcatedheart-a]

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” - Lodger

Send Me A Sentence For My Muse’s Reaction

theworldologist

"Yes."

The answer came without any hesitation. When preparing for this particular visit, a thought had struck him — one that had not relented even as time had passed, and so in the end he had given in to its suggestion.

Once the small device he had brought with him had been properly set up, Mister Mandus gestured to it. “A phonautograph.” Or rather, an improved variation of one — but that part needn’t be mentioned. “Used to record audio by notating the vibrations of soundwaves.”

There was a pause in the explanation, however. The short, strange, perpetually tired-looking man hadn’t asked him for anything, and the industrialist couldn’t rightly say that he knew that the device would be of any use whatever to the Lodger. But what he did know was that the man endured a rather secluded life here in this home, in these woods.

”.. You can record voices. Your own, if you wish — perhaps to leave a message for yourself. Or you can record someone else’s, or music to soothe you.” It was as much as he could offer him at current; a means through which any days spent alone might not be quite so … alone. His lips pursed a moment while brow furrowed, then he adjusted his glasses and returned his attention to the device. “Shall I show you how it works?”