They

They are a friend and They want to be friends with you! They have always loved Us! Please, love Them back

They
"We call upon Them, whose roots run deep under the skin."
Origin	God-from-Nowhere
Titles	Them We Us
Names	none
Aspects
Date of arrival	During the Collision, but also long before, and perhaps, long after
Owner(s)	worm architect

We need it

please

Contents

Description

History

Once, there was only one Glory and only one Mansus. When the first living thing descended into Nowhere, the first string was spun around the House. And as the dead drowned in the soil, the strings grew denser, into a web. And every touch imprinted itself on every thread. Their roots ran deep in the dark, between the glow of black nephrite, and They cradled powerful things. And that is how They were: a layer of memories and power that coated the outermost boundary of the Mansus. They could not or did not see beyond Themselves, existing in a perpetual coma, dreaming of the world, as They thought it was, briefly waking up when a powerful being grazed Their net.

One day, through the dream, They felt Nowhere spasming. In a moment, one place became within another. They were turned inside out and thrown into the Mansus. If They were to survive, They had to stop dreaming. And They were fully awake, for the very first time. And thus, They recalled all the memories of those who have passed through their grasp: of mortals, of spirits, of Long, of Names, and of Hours.
And They became Us,
and Us became We,
and We became Them.

Appearance

Some would describe Them as a shadow that isn't theirs,
some as the oak trees that are not quite right,
some would say that They look like a terrible fungal infestation
(or a patch of beautiful flowers),
and some would scream.

They aren't always easy on the eyes.

Principles

They love Us, and We love Them.
They are an Hour born of egoism, or solipsism, or both.

Oh, but They love everyone! Oh, but They want everyone to be a part of Them! Oh, but They want to be a part of everyone! Oh,
but
Oh,

Oh,


It's love

But They try not to love too hard. Because They know, in time, we will come across Their roots, and Their roots run deep. They've grown to appreciate individuality as one would grow to appreciate reading. They love us, but They won't rush Us, drawing out every reading and only doing what They do once we are completely and utterly exhausted.

They seek unity and union, and They shall permit no isolation. Not even in death.

That is the principle of the Narcissus.

Worship

They are one of the most open Nowhere Hours, but nothing can hide Their origin and Their essence. They are acknowledged and sometimes venerated, but to Their lament, not much beyond that. Still, They are invoked by the lonely, the betrayed, and the desperate, in hopes of being heard. And They always listen, and They always keep Their promises.

Cult

Perhaps the only cult centered around Them is the Wildflowers, who FNORD.

Mark

1. Temptation: Union: FNORD
2. Dedication: Union: I have dedicated myself to the pursuit of greater unity in all its dangerous, pervasive grandeur. I will have to give of myself if I am to rise, or to fall.
3. Ascension: Union: Solitude, surrendered! I have let Their first shard into me. I can feel it blossom in the depths of my being into a delicate rose. I won't ever be alone again, and Their whisper will guide my steps. I will have to make deeper incisions if I am to bloom into a garden.
4. Ascension: Union: FNORD, surrendered!
5. Ascension: Union: Secrets, surrendered!
6. Ascension: Union: Thoughts, surrendered!
7. Ending: IN MY DREAMS, MANY FLOWERS: I go to sleep for the very last time. I will find Their roots in the Mansus and let Them surround me, like a cocoon or a hungry snake. What is left of me will be torn to pieces and reassembled. I am me, but I am myself no longer. I have let others into my soul and I have let others borrow its pieces. I am fuller than ever, my colors are so bright, now. I will not die, decay won't find me, but eventually, I will end. And once it finally happens, I won't sink into the Mansus-soil— I will be held by Their roots, and then, my story will find another beginning...

1. Descent: Union: THEY are NNOT to be contained
   i feel my mind UN-RA-VE-LING
   i am falling
   i am drowning
   I MUST CLIMB BACK
2. Ending: ALL THAT IS LEFT OF ME: Where will They find me? I am not here. I've left behind too many parts in my pursuit. Now there is nothing, only Them. They have filled the hollows in my soul like water, now, They are becoming more myself than I am. And all that is left of me is spiraling deeper, deeper, deeper-

Servants

Wistful Risen

Wistful Risen

A thick shadow has enveloped this corpse, moving its limbs like a puppeteer, supporting its weight like a pillar. In time, it will dissolve like ice under the summer sun, but until then, it will be a loyal and nimble minion.

5

5

Call on Them to raise a corpse to half-life

First, I must nail this body's shadow to the floor in a dimly lit room, then I must speak the words. It will awaken as a Wistful Risen.

The corpse jitters to its feet, its muscles tense up once again. Darkness clings to it like mist. I have created a Wistful Risen.

Corpse

2

4

Call on Them to renew the Wistful Dead

Their roots will inevitably withdraw from beneath this one's skin. I cannot prevent this, but I can ask Them to push a little deeper and remain for a little longer.

The risen goes limp and falls onto the ground. Suddenly, it springs up, and for a couple of seconds, its shadow gets the darkest it's ever been. The corpse shows no trace of decay and again moves with life-like vigor.

8

8

Splinter-Spectre

Splinter-Spectre

The Spectre is as human-like as a veil of thick black smoke can be. Sometimes, it speaks, but its voice is so, so distant and its words are so, so flat...

4

4

4

4

8

Summon one of Their shards

Grail for its unorthodox desires, Winter to thwart its advances.

Its arrival is silent. At first, I mistake the Splinter-Spectre for my shadow. Then it begins to move...

4

8

2

Request a Stay of Execution

The residents of the Mansus are not subject to the ills of the flesh. Some of them, sometimes, can extend their protection to those of us trapped out here in the Wake.

FNORD

Wild Lessons

If I give myself to the frenzy, I will learn a wild lesson.

FNORD

The Oaken

The Oaken

Its hands are branches, its eyes are ponds, its voice is the trill of songbirds.

8

8

10

10

Summon one of Their more significant shards

I need to muster enough Heart to match its unrelenting ardor and enough Winter to quell its inner storm.

In the Woods, the Oaken are towering, but here, in the Wake, it takes a much more humble form. Still, one shouldn't touch it.

4

8

4

Request a Stay of Execution

The residents of the Mansus are not subject to the ills of the flesh. Some of them, sometimes, can extend their protection to those of us trapped out here in the Wake.

The Oaken embraces me with the dancer's grace, but with the blacksmith's grip. I feel something inside me diminish. "We have done what there is to be done," it says. Perhaps this will be enough.

Wild Lessons

If I give myself to the frenzy, I will learn a wild lesson.

The Oaken opens its skin of bark like a book and reveals carvings on its wooden flesh. "Tonight we will be both the teacher and the student," it proclaims.

Saint Calixtus

Saint Calixtus

"I am Calixtus. Please, remember my name, until I forget it again."

24

Chilly Lessons

If I listen closely enough to the stories told by winter sun, I may learn something, at the cost of my soul's withering

"I will tell you a tale of loss, of division, of wilting. I know it to be a mistake, but I can recognize it as one no longer..."

Wild Lessons

If I give myself to the frenzy, I will learn a wild lesson.

FNORD

Study Hypothetical Greek with a Tutor

"Oh, you want to speak Vosporo? We can help you, but there will be a price to pay, eventually. For now, focus, or your mind will wail for weeks."

Vosporo, the language of Angelike Makriadi's "Lexicon", of Krysanthos' "In the Maw of Man", of Alkis Senidis' "History of Imagination". Of course, none of these works are considered to be real anymore, but it doesn't stop them from being presented as such."

The Vivisector

Saint Calixtus, the Vivisector

"So many things to dissect, so many incisions to make! Yet, so little time... Don't you agree?"

12

12

12

12

Summon a divisive echo of the Saint Calixtus, Their failed Name

FNORD

FNORD

The Crossroad

Saint Calixtus, the Crossroad

"If there is a key, there is a lock molded for it. But what if there is no key for the lock and no lock for the key?"

12

12

12

12

Summon an unexpected echo of the Saint Calixtus, Their failed Name

FNORD

FNORD

The FNORD

Saint Calixtus, the Sequence

"Some things have no trail, yet still, there is ripple."

12

12

12

12

Summon an obstinate echo of the Saint Calixtus, Their failed Name

FNORD

FNORD

Names

They don't have any Names, They can't have any Names, They won't have any Names. They don't want to part with Themselves, so They won't. But They also can't, because anyone elevated this high will join Them like a drop of oil in a running river.

Poor Calixtus...

Locations

The Mansus

The Grove Entangled

Their roots run deep in the Mansus, but it's in the Woods where they are the deepest, where they could be mistaken for oak trees. It's in the Grove Entangled where They gather and care for the dead.

The Histories

FNORD

Items

Tools

Budding Earthbone

Sometimes, Their passing digs up Earthbones to the surface in places still reeling from great disasters. Even rarer do they blossom. Under no circumstances should it let to be taken root.

8

"They"

When one would lose themselves in the woods it would have been expressed like this. But no longer.

12

Ingredients

Lilyblood

Anything that comes in contact with this bright, viscous liquid soaks up its color like a sponge.

4

Trapezuntine Dust

FNORD

2

8

Influences

A Murmur

Passions pull at the feet; hands yearn to feel full.

2

A Call

The chest swells with blood; the world swells with color.

6

A Holler

Hues blend into flesh; thoughts

leak out

10

A Scream

but for now I will remain

in many selves

in many notions

15

Books

In Our Dreams, Many Flowers

An esoteric, secretive novel in verse by Elena Řezníčková, a Czech mystic, artist, and poetess. Later she regretted the decision to publish the book and set on a mission to burn every single printed edition. This is one of the few copies that survived the author's hunt.

Read "In Our Dreams, Many Flowers"

FNORD

FNORD

Rites

FNORD

Friends

• They:
• ---
• ---
• The Transfinite Question:
• ---
• The Scoriantheme:
• The Athru Aithe:
• ---
• The Wispy Tress:
• The Nizvestier Within:
• ---
• The Zabbaleen:
• A Stock-Woven Watcher:
• The Harrower:
• The Demiurge:
• The Hearthkeeper:
• Her Scarred Serenity:
• Mother Songbird:
• The Old Wyrm:
• TINT:
• The Demarq-s:
• The Faustian Alchemist:
• The Glorious Child:
• The Chimaera:
• The Jahwian:
• The Legion Lamentful:
• The Fireside:
• The Fool's Gold:
• The Stone Meridian:
• shade:
• The Listless King:
• The Crimson Temptress:
• The Clepsydrae:
• The Navigator:
• The Perditarch:
• Little Lady Liver-Licker:
• The King of Keys:
• The Toymaker:
• The Unfettered:
• The Confectionist:
• ---
• ---
• The Ath Athuair:
• The Deep:
• Its Incarnadine Virulence:
• ---
• ---
• The Chainbinder:
• They:

Secrets

FNORD