Tell it from the point of view of the people, who start investigating aspects of the place they live that don't make sense, and at the end they come to the conclusion that they're in an ant farm being studied by the Old One and are driven insane.
Lovecraft Mythos - Cosmic Horror
H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos is a shared universe far larger and more terrifying than that of humanity, where ancient, malevolent beings known as the Great Old Ones slumber in the depths of space or time. After Lovecraft's death, the Mythos has been expanded and developed by many authors, including August Derleth, Clark Ashton Smith, and Robert E. Howard. These and many other authors have helped to flesh out the Mythos into a rich and complex Dark Universe.
Rules:
- Please NO "Call of Cthulhu RPG" content (there are other great groups)
- PLEASE ONLY MYTHOS-INSPIRED CONTENTS
- Share stories, books, authors and any other works from the mythos
- Share reviews, analysis and theories on the lore
- Share videos, images and contents inspired by the lore
- Where possible share the link to the authors or the sources
- Ignore the call in your dreams as long as possible
π For more cosmic horror: !cosmichorror@lemm.ee π
That assumes we're the only anthill...
And honestly, I don think we'd be ants. More like bacteria or something that's normal invisible and all over/in everything.
Some is good, some is bad, but no one cares unless there's symptoms. Then we wipe them out without a second thought that they're alive.
Very few people "humanize" bacteria. At most they study bacteria
Nice argument. But bacteria can infect organisms, even kill them. Can an Old One be "humanized"?
This reminds me of a character from the book series Laundry Files by Charles Stross. Basically they have this alien entity called "the souls eater" (guess what it can do) which a secret british govern agency evoke in the 60s and bind to a human body with some kind of binding ritual, after that they pass almost 10 years brainwashing him in human value, honor ecc. up to the point where he became one of the best secret agent of that organization, with a key role to save the world from eldrich horrors.
Don't they feed off our psychic energy?
Humans are the powerhouse a great old one.
Sometimes we're a positive but most of the time we're not noticed unless we're a problem. A surplus of the wrong kind of psychic energy or not enough of the right kind could warrant a reaction just like taking antibiotics or eating a probiotic yogurt.
Like. It ain't going to be a direct one to one comparison, it's an analogy about hypothetical charecters...
So our psychic energy can be toxic for them? Another nice idea. So what human perceive as hostile incomprehensible behavior of cosmic entities may just be some poor inter-dimensional fella with the psychic equivalent of a food poisoning or even an allergy reaction. (he's choking on our mindπ€£)
Neat ππ
Head Canon: There are few Modern Setting Old One horrors because the Internet is akin to food so rotten, just entering the house the food is in can make them pass out
Yes, but in the same book you learn that
spoiler
the brainwashing didn't take. He's just playing along because he's afraid of bigger eldritch horrors, and the Laundry is his best resource for protecting himself.
spoiler
Well, this is true but his first body SE+Algernon do care for people in his own way. As for what the SE+Bob do, well either is Bob at the controls or the SE is hallucinating to be him
The way I read the story, Cthulhu himself is positively inclined towards humanity - it says right there in the text that when he awakes he'll teach us new ways to revel and kill. We'll be his newest servitor race.
Well, the old servitor race is still asleep in R'lyeh and will eventually wake up. So we'll more likely be the "third wheel" race. Hard to accept i know, big Lulu is a "player".
I' th' last night's storm I such a fellow saw,
Which made me think a man a worm. My son
Came then into my mind, and yet my mind
Was then scarce friends with him. I have heard more since.
As flies to wanton boys are we to th' gods,
They kill us for their sport.
William Shakespeare - King Lear