#tma statement

[mozartpilled]

statement of bilbo baggins regarding the strange transformation of his partner — the combination of my love for both the magnus archives and the hobbit, as well as lovecraft

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[th3-dark-abyss]

Statement #0210214: Wide-Open Expanse | TMA Among Us Statement | https://archiveofourown.org/works/58078822

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Description:

🔒Archive Locked due to AI Slop Scrapping concerns. AI Slop fuck off.

Word Count: 2,912 Chapter Count: Oneshot Complete?: Yes

Rating: T Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Category(s): Gen Fandom(s): The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship(s): No Romantic Relationships Character(s): Original Characters, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Additional Tags: Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), The Vast Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Stranger Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Slaughter Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical The Slaughter Content (The Magnus Archives), Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Fear, Character Death, Outer Space

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Summary:

Case #0210214 Statement of Julie Grey, regarding a mysterious circumstance that occurred on a spaceship. Statement number 0210214, 14th February 2021.

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!! REBLOG MY FIC PRETTY PLEASE !!

[lonely--watcher]

An older statement has been left on Tim’s desk. From the colour of the paper Its clear that this statement had been typed up a while ago. It stands out on his desk amongst the white of the newer papers scattered around.  Who put it there? It wasn’t something that had been assigned to him.

Statement of Johnathan Keller, Regarding there classmate and events surrounding there disappearance. Statement given November 12th 1990.

The events I am telling you about happened a few years ago now, I was studying at Heriot-Watt University, chemistry, up in Edinburgh. Even now my mind still wanders back to what I saw that day, Its part of the reason I moved down here, To get away from it all. Try feel better about it , given the distance.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. I was in the middle of my time at Heriot-Watt, It was the start of a new term and I was making my way to my classes for the first time. That is where I met him, Harry Miller. I hadn’t met him before, must have been a transfer or moved from another class from the previous year, either way he ended up working on the bench next to me in the practical lab.

He was always a very animated character, a few years younger than me, and not shy about being heard. He’d often blather away in my ear any chance he got. I didn’t dislike him, I was quite and liked to get on with my work, and listening to his stories gave me insight into parts of the world I had never been interested in exploring. I don’t know how he found time to study between his social gatherings and outings.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been such a willing participant in listening to his tales, maybe then I wouldn’t have heard, or know when it all happened.

It was midterm, and Harry was excitably telling me about the chemicals used to create stage effects, or the special effects in movies. I had finished my assignment, so was giving him more attention than usual. That’s when he mentioned a show he had seen the previous week. “the Circus of the Other”, I thought it was an odd name, other than what?. But he was enraptured, talking about performances I frankly thought sounded rather morbid. But the mystery of it seemed to fascinate him, the things he described didn’t seem doable by normal means. Though I suppose circuses always seemed to attract odd people, and probably contained a lot of tricks and showmanship the same way as magic shows. I told him as such, but he wasn’t convinced, he said he watched it very closely and there was no where to cause any slight of hand. As he continued to rant I stopped listening as much, Deciding to fill in some paperwork. I truthfully just didn’t want to hear any more details from this show, it was making me uncomfortable.

Harry though, he became obsessed. He returned to this show at least 2 more times before he couldn’t find it anymore, and each time he came back he seemed, well almost changed. His obsession was still there, but being around him became more and more uncomfortable, Like looking at a stranger.

I don’t think I was the only one, the people I saw that he usually talked with seemed to be avoiding him as well. But he still talked my ear off every lab session. I tried to just get on with my work. Tried not to think about the way he still talked about this act. How much he admired it, how he thought he had figured out how they had done it, how he had been practicing.

It was near the end of term when the accident in the lab happened. I’m not sure what happened really, I was cleaning up equipment by the sinks, and he had followed me over. I didn’t see what happened but someone behind me yelped and knocked into me. I think something harry did must have scared them. The acetone I was using on the equipment, splashed across Harrys forearm.

Mind you, though it’s not something that I recommend pouring on skin, It is rather harmless, and could have just been washed of.  But Harry howled grabbing his arm. The reaction had both me and those still in the lab jump in fright. The other few ran out to get a lab teck I think , while I tried to help Harry. I didn’t know what was going on, he was reacting like he’d been burnt. I grabbed his arm and held it under the water. One look in his eyes had me looking away, I might just have been paranoid but something about those eyes didn’t feel right, to shiny, to smooth.

So instead I decided to focus on his arm instead. I wish I hadn’t, The eyes where better than what I saw. Looking down at his arm , I still see it in my dreams sometime. The skin was pinching and cracking, Like a bad burn, but there was no change in colour. The skill looked like it was coming away from the rest of his arm. I forgot how to breath, frozen staring at it, the way the skin cracked and shriveled up. I expected there to be blood, so much blood, but there was none, just something wrong , shiny beneath it, It didn’t look normal.

It was then that Harry pulled his arm away , pulling his sleave over it, he looked at me with this horrific smile and said

“he was fine, and would go home to deal with it.”

Then he just left. I stood there until the others from the class returned and I just repeated what harry had said to me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what I’d seen.

I didn’t see Harry for weeks after that, he stopped coming to the Lab or any of his classes from what I heard. I tried my best to not think about it, or him. doing so was , unpleasant.

I had stayed late at the library, finishing up something for class. That was when I saw Harry for the last time. I was hurrying threw the dark streets heading back home for the night, at that time of year it was normal for it to get dark very early.

Then I saw him, just sitting on a bench, looking over a green space. I wasn’t even sure it was him, he seemed to different from the last time I saw him. I went to hurry by, but he called out to me.

I tried to be polite, said it was nice to see him , and I hoped he was doing well, but that I really had to be going. he just looked at me, I don’t think he blinked. I knew something was wrong, so I made to leave, but I couldn’t help but look at the arm that had been burned in the lab that day, and I froze in my tracks. It was wrong. Not the burn I expected or the healing remains of an injury. It was smooth, the light of the lamp posts reflected on the surface. The colour was right but it reminded me of a dolls. I looked up to his face again, and he was still smiling at me. I wanted to run. then he talked.

He thanked me, It made my stomach flip. Said I helped him figure it out, how he had finally been able to perform that trick from the show.  That now he knew what to do and would soon be able to do all the tricks , finally get to be the performer. He reached out to me, as to grab my arm, but I found my will to move return and I ran.

I only looked back once. And he was just standing there , smiling, waving that plastic arm.

I think he really did join that performance in the end, I saw someone walking up behind him before I looked away. A woman, that felt like him, with the same smile, and shiny skin, but in an awful headmasters outfit.

I was never fond of circuses, but now, I’m just glad I have never seen one.

Harry was reported missing by the end of the term, I told the police I saw him last in that park, with a circus performer but nothing else. No one would have believed me, and I had no reason to look crazy after all my hard work.

They never found anything.

As soon as my course ended I moved down here to England, I kept having nightmares, but I felt better knowing I was away from where it happened.  

((written by @lonely--watcher ,for @timberly-bloker because it wouldn't send it as an Ask for some reason? word limit maybe? XP))

[sieveyourtea]

......Regarding a Series of Observations from his Fire Escape

Summary: Statement of Marcus Landry regarding a series of observations from his fire escape. Original statement taken direct from subject on May 9th, 2018 by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.  

READ HERE!

My half of a trade with @tea-time-with-the-gaye! Our goal was to make works focus on the Vast, and this was such a fun thing to create! Thank you so much, Gaye, for you kindness, creativity, and encouragement! Your art is just simply amazing and always such a joy to look at!!

I hope you enjoy this statement fic!

[the-magpie-archives]

Being a tma fan is great, of course it is! Who wouldn't love such a good podcast. But it also brings some experiences into a terrible, cursed, supernatural new light.

Like the other day I was out around Kings Cross with a friend, and we stumbled upon an antique shop! It looked small and we'd never noticed it before so we decided to go in. There was only one other person in there, a guy. I initially thought he was the owner but I noticed he was holding a camera and looking around, so he probably wasn't. It was bigger on the inside than it had looked from the outside, and had several rooms. We went into the nearest one, and it was absolutely filled with mannequins.

I started to notice that barely anything had price tags on it. At this point I got a little creeped out, that many fake eyes angled towards you tends to have that effect, so we decided to leave. The other guy in the shop was blocking the exit slightly, and i didn't want to be rude and ask him to move, so I pretended to be looking at something to pass the time. That's when I noticed that he was looking at me.

Now I'm no stranger to being stared at, my fashion style involves chains and mini skirts so you can imagine how often I get looked at in all kinds of ways, but this was different. At first I thought he was looking past me, but even as I smiled and we made eye contact it was very clear, that look of slight, dull intrigue; he was looking at me like I was an antique, a static object, something he wanted to buy.

Needless to say, this freaked me out even more, and i left very quickly indeed. After this, the power of The Stranger makes even more sense than before... There's something so morbid about being reminded that when it comes down to it, all you are is an object, and an object is what you shall be made into; how much power do you really have over your own body when it really comes down to it? And how can you tell who, or perhaps what, a seemingly normal fellow patron is.

[spr0utsies]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

subscribe to my fanfic, boy

i’ve lowkey been obsessed w writing tma statements for my ocs while i’m bored/slacking at work so now im posting on ao3 for the first time since like 2018 lollll

[avviss]

Roadkill - Statement 0121018

Statement of Lincoln Bolton regarding a car incident he took the life of an apparently unknown thing. Original statement given October 18th, 2012. Statement recorded by the Magnus Institute, London, directly from subject. Transcribed on October 24th, 2022.

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[Statement Begins.]

You have to understand, I’m a good driver. Hell, the past few years I’ve been working as a delivery driver for this local pizza place, King’s Pizza, and as far as the other guys I worked with, I’d say I’m the best one. Sometimes when I’m driving I’d think about being one of those Formula One drivers, but it’s never made me hit anything before, let alone a human being. At least I think it was human.

Firstly what’s important to know is that as my job as a delivery driver, I have to drive pretty much anywhere at any time for the lazy people who don’t want to leave their homes especially at night. Usually, we’d get an order from the phone telling us when and where our customer is usually with some sort of simple note attached. I thought it was odd this last delivery had a note saying only saying, “Lincoln Bolton.” It unnerved me a tad initially but decided it was probably one of my friends playing a prank on me and wanting to make sure I follow up this specific order.

It had been pouring and thundering all day, the cliché of “On a dark and stormy night” and all kinda stuff. I set out for the address, 5 School Lane London if I remember, I don’t know how I remember, but I guess the mind has a way to attach to familiarity when things go wrong? Anyway, on the drive I had been going down these strange roads I’ve never seen before, a winding downhill road, no cars had passed me for what should have been a few minutes, but it felt so much longer somehow, not only that, but I couldn’t see any city lights in the distance, not even the stars.

I was getting impatient with the darkness and had the thought of increasing the speed just for a little while partly so I could break from whatever place I was in but also a slight hint of F-1 daydreams. As I pushed down the gas, I saw a flash of movement in the road and a hard crack under my wheels. Horrified, flashes of animal guts and carcasses flew into my mind, I hadn’t even thought that I must have hit a person before I stepped out of my vehicle.

The rain was at work washing away the mess, but I smelled that irony scent instantly. Blood covered the front end of my car as well as the wheels, a trail of that fresh blood trailed behind my car to a horribly twisted and mangled…thing. I knew instantly that whatever thing I hit must have been a person because of the wet bits of clothing hanging off of what should be arms and a torso. Panic set into me, this thing could not be alive, had I killed someone?

I won’t be afraid to admit that at that moment tears shed down my cheeks along with the rain. As I came to terms with the fact that I had to attempt to hide this mess, maybe I could say I hit a deer or larger animal, but then I heard it. A cracking sound came from the heap of flesh, and I realized it was clawing at the ground trying to move, it was muttering something.

Morbid curiosity caused me to approach where it then screamed at me. YOU HIT ME, YOU HIT ME it screamed with an impossibly raspy voice, YOU HIT ME, I NEED A HOSPITAL. I was stunned but horrified, by whatever impulse that took over me, I understood that I had wronged it and I must do what I can to help. There was no way a human being would survive that impact, but someone, that thought made me more prone to grab at it and pick it up, it felt like trying to hold up a bulging trash bag on the verge of splitting open releasing its foul innards to the world. I was covered in blood as well as my backseat.

It screamed at me the entire drive to the hospital where I let the doctors handle it. I ended up getting fired from my job for wrecking a company car, they didn’t know what to do with the thing I had hit. All I found out was that the doctors told me that whatever thing I brought them, died the moment I picked it up. I don’t know what I hit, but I know in my gut that it wasn’t human, at least not all of it.

[Statement ends.]

[archivus]

MAG[REDACTED] - Dark Down Below

This is episode dedicated to fans of Agnes Montague, the Cult of the Lightless Flame or the People's Church of the Divine Host

Statement of Lisa Yordanka regarding her experience with a strange mattress. Original statement given 22nd of August 1998, recording by Arcturus Walker, head archivist of the Magnus Institute, Budapest. Put to tape on April 2nd 2024. Statement begins:

I know about the entities. And I know that you must know about them as well. The ten lords in the sky beyond controlling our fears, but there's only one to which's power I consented to: the Desolation. I never thought a daughter of The Blackened Earth would be haunted by The Forever Blind. But I guess dark and destruction, flame and ash and coal go hand in hand. I never thought of their faction as the enemy. I thought we had some kind of contract binding us until we rid our area of The Mother of Puppets. Assuming they were the ones that brought it upon me.

I'm a coward. I have been devout to Asag ever since it enlightened me to it all: the human race deserves not what it has. The only one to bring destruction to it all is my God and no one else's. I would sacrifice myself in its name and yet, I haven't. I want to say I just haven't had the chance to, but that'd be a lie. I am afraid to die. Even in light of the powers at my fingertips I cannot bring death upon my shell. Because wouldn't that mean giving myself up to Terminus? Wouldn't that just feed The Coming End That Waits For All? Will I stop lying to myself one day? I can't bring myself to do it. It's that simple.

Until the inevitable end comes when I'll finally unite with the one to light my fire I will put this body to the most use that I can for both IT and the cult. So then, how come The Dark set it's blind gaze upon me? Why did I become their target? I don't even know what it counts, maybe as- as an artefact? A monster that came for me? Did something *posess* my mattress while I was busy fighting for Agnes?

It was a cold night, I remember. I got the chance to be around the chosen one, for a week I was blessed by her presence and I soaked it up, I could feel it in my powers. But the apartment she and Jude shared didn't have a guest bedroom nor a third bed, but luckily someone from the cult had a spare mattress we brought over to accommodate those that wish to see messiah and bathe in her immediate divinity. I was not the first to sleep on it. But I was there at the wrong time.

See, we had a bit of a commotion with our siblings over at the people's church, some started a protest that this joint of powers is a downright sacrilege towards their "Mr. Pitch", that whilst our flame is lightless, the heat it emanates is reminiscent of the thing they hate the most. They argued that our burning is parallel to that of the Sun which they're so desperately trying to blacken and thus we were harmful to their sanctity.

Though we tried to keep Agnes's identity a secret, their most sensitive to the world beyond ours could feel her presence and the gossip carried the word quick and far. So their target was set on our dear messiah's back and that was something I simply I could not let happen. The physical aspect of the fight was lacking to say the least, the darkness works by disorientation not by direct combat, which is what the flame excels at.

Thankfully my blessed abilities include striking a spark into all that's electric and once the churchmen's frosty void surrounded us all I was able to flick all the broken bulbs lying around, those that they ritualistically destroyed into a flashbang for those who still perceived with their eyes. The rest also felt their power dissipate. The destruction of their ego, their fear of eradication almost made me want to get up close and personal with those who were first to open fire but there was no need, for they all turned their backs and my family from the cult urged me to leave them behind. That mercy was undeserved and it hurt.

That evening I had a hard time ridding my system of the pent up adrenaline. I took to some meditation with the members who were still there by the nightfall, but I still struggled to fall asleep. The mattress seemed too wavy and for long long hours I thought it was just my shocked perception playing tricks on my brain. But then I felt something slam into the middle of my spine, a shocking pain piercing through my skin like a round knife. It was like a heavy wooden door shutting, again and again and again. I tried to scream. I see well in the dark, my heat perception is impeccable yet I couldn't find a thing in my vicinity. The room seemed empty and after half a second the darkness seemed to wrap around my neck, flowing down my throat, muffling any sound I made. Then another spring etched into the nape of my neck, with a power that should've sprung my head up but something weighed me down on the needle bed that kept on prying into my body, spring by spring until I lost consciousness.

I don't even have to mention. It was dark. The most pitch black one couldn't see. This one had to be lived by a soul, as I was sure that was all I had now. My, at least what I believe to be my projected- body was glowing. I wasn't floating though. All around me was all encompassing darkness, yes, but I was laying in a swamp of some sort of viscous liquid that barely felt like it was even there. At first at least. I could barely touch it, the texture escaped my fingertips. That was until I felt a bump forming under my back from what, I now felt as a tiny swarm of particles, a dark sentient confetti. Thinking they were about to transport me I relaxed my body. How naive of me. Expecting to meet face to face with one of the gods from beyond? In my right mind I definitely wouldn't have thought myself worthy and I still not am. But I let go to see where the darkness takes me. Nowhere.

All of a sudden I experienced an ache of a thousand suns burrowing under my skin, the wounds were still obviously there from where the springs burst into me, and now they were being pried open once again by the mysterious creatures, bleeding me dry in the dreamscape of their master(s). I was numb. The pain made my brain forget where my muscles were positioned. I wouldn't be surprised if it was because of a spinal cord injury. For a moment it all seemed to cease but right after the calm my whole being began to spasm. I was experiencing a shock, a fit that I can't describe. I wasn't conscious all throughout though, I can tell you that much. After all my muscles startes vibrating uncontrollably, I lost myself.

And then awoke. My head throbbing like a bad hangover, I climbed over to the bathroom. I spare you the details, I was in a rather sorry state. I do not know who cursed me in the church and I do not care to find out. I want them all to pay, to burn among the flames they'll wish so desperately to not see. But my fire will burn through their blackened eyeholes and etch a flash in the deepest corners of the minds of even those that could never see. And I'll leave this statement to you and the ages to come, to note the day those wretched monsters dare lay their closed eyes upon our Agnes.

Statement ends. There are certainly a few interesting details to this statement so I'll go over them in order. First, Lisa only seems to know about 10 of the 15 entities, which may translate to the Cult of The Lightless Flame having the same, limited knowledge. This can be seen by the fact that miss Lisa's powers described here more closely resemble The Extinction's, rather than The Desolation's. It definitely gets me wondering how someone devout could be snatched from their entity's grasp. Maybe the Future Without Us was already within her when she first joined the cult?

Still baffles me how such a new power would dare mess with the subordinates of the burning destruction. Miss Lisa's fear and inability to sacrifice herself may come from The Extinction preventing her from becoming an avatar to the *wrong* entity, or it could just be a manifestation of its powers, just like her wishing death upon the entirety of the human race. I was also unaware that the two most active cults at the time, at least of those serving the entities, held such close ties, even if we just witnessed them getting severed...

Two days after giving this statement the apartment under the name of Lisa Yordanka caught fire, which is assumed to be electrical in nature, her kitchen appliances being the most likely source, and whilst cameras don't show her leaving, no body was found. Per my deductions this means she had completed her transformation into an avatar, though maybe not the one she wished to become. I wonder if the metal from the springs could've helped her body transform, like a crystallization chain reaction. Those born of The Terrible Change seem to enjoy their robotic bodies more than their organic ones, which they often experience as flesh-prisons. *sigh* I hope this fellow avatar finds it freeing as well and not as another bound to something she doesn't even know about. Wonder if she's ever going to figure it out. Recording ends.

Thanks for reading! I love how this turned out and actually written most of it before The Stranger's episode was done 😅. This episode is dedicated to The Dark and you can find the other ones here: The Flesh The Vast The Stranger