#Kepler West Virginia
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I think it might be a good thing that Kepler, by being in the NRQZ, does not get a lot of main stream television, simply because it gives Barclay some more peace.
If Jake and Dani had access to Finding Bigfoot, I don’t believe Barclay would ever know peace again.
Jake, Dani and Barclay are Mama’s kids, the youngest, middle and eldest siblings respectively and it is my firm belief that Dani and Jake would not hesitate in their younger sibling solidarity to torment Barclay (out of love of course) ENDLESSLY
#taz#taz amnesty#taz barclay#taz dani#jake coolice#amnesty lodge#taz mama#bigfoot#cryptids#cryptidcore#kepler#Kepler West Virginia
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NOT MY ART! I found this photo saved on an old computer and wanted to track down the source. Any ideas?
#taz amnesty#the adventure zone#the zone cast#kepler west virginia#indruck#induck#mothman#duck newton#taz#taz graduation#the eleventh hour#aubrey little#ned chicane#taz fanart#taz fanfic
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listening to the taz amnesty soundtrack and tearing up a lil bit when i hear the amnesty lodge's theme again
#i gotta relisten sometime#podcast so good i named myself after it#the town it's set in is called kepler - west virginia. that's where i got the name kepler from! :3
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It's the Fifth Second Methodist Bank of Kepler, West Virginia.
Griffin McElroy
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rhododendron
a juno devine character study (titled after the state flower of west virginia)! post ep 28 spoilers, and i do believe her and duck actually knew each other when they were younger than when i have them meet in this fic but shh it's fine, ~560 words
Juno Devine. She had always felt like her name created shoes a bit bigger than she had ever been able to fill. The king of the Roman gods’ wife and then just the word divine (albeit spelled differently) didn’t exactly conjure the image of a small town forest ranger. That was okay with her though, it was more a recurring thought in the back of her head than a true worry. Her life had really turned out perfectly. Who knows where she would have ended up if not for Arlo Thacker’s intervention with seven-year-old Juno on the day of that fateful field trip? At any other job, she would have been perfectly competent, but never really satisfied, always glancing out the window and longing to be back outside. Luckily, though, the Monongahela National Forest became her home, almost even more so than her apartment in Kepler.
The best part of being a forest ranger was her colleagues. As a child, Juno never really connected with any of her classmates. After Thacker talked to them, they eased up some on the bullying, but she was still very lonely. Now, as an adult, she could have conversations on all the topics related to nature she was most passionate about and be met with the same level of enthusiasm from her fellow rangers. Duck Newton was the one that Juno found herself connecting with most. They started hanging out outside of work and became friends. It was difficult for Juno to be in silence with others, since it felt like all the times she had been ignored and invisible in the past, but this anxiety seemed to naturally dissolve with Duck. One warm summer night, when it was dark enough to see the stars, without a cloud in the sky, they met up by the river just as they had planned. Duck brought a blanket and some popcorn, Juno brought a couple hard lemonades, and they just enjoyed each other’s company and the perfect view of the stars without a word.
So, when things started getting strange in Kepler (or more so than usual), Juno trusted Duck to help handle it. Sure, she wished she had a better idea of what was going on (and something was obviously being covered up since Duck couldn’t lie for shit), and she didn’t really know Duck’s two weird friends, but if he thought they were good enough to work with then that must be the case. When things really went south, the FBI came to town, and all of a sudden Arlo Thacker showed back up on her doorstep asking her to basically commit a federal crime, what was she going to say? No? That absolutely wasn’t an option at the behest of the man who had set her life on the right track, and really, at this point, she would have joined the plan herself soon anyway. As a forest ranger, she worked for the government, but Juno’s first allegiance had always been to the flora and fauna and the land itself. The FBI coming in and closing off parts of the forest to set up their goddamn surveillance base camp wasn’t gonna stand. Not in her town. So she gave Thacker, now an old man, but still with the same twinkle in his eye as always, a big hug and promised to do everything she could. The fight was on.
#message from mirph#mirph's manuscripts#the adventure zone#taz amnesty#juno devine#ranger juno devine#duck newton#arlo thacker#taz fanfic#fanfic
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Every Friday at work we have "dress-up days" and this week it was "sports" and you were supposed to dress like your favorite sports team but i didn't really have anything so i just like. Wore basketball shorts and a tank top.
But because of the colors of the tank (a nice yellow, navy, magenta & white stripe pattern,) i decided that if anyone asked (which no one did) i would say i was from the team, the "Monongahela Hornets." A regional team who, of course, based their practices in Kepler, WV.
Now i know what you're saying. "The Hornets are a gang & they don't get along w/ society, why would that also be a sports team!?" But hear me out. Pocahontas County used to have a really, really good local basketball team. Like, back when The Hornets we know were know were in elementary/middle school-ish.
The coach??
Obviously: Mr. Stop N' Pump N' Shop himself.
But after this award-winning inspirational champion had a run-in with half-boy, half-car, protector and king of West Virginia Basketball, 11-year-old Griffin McElroy, Coach was disgraced & no one ever heard from him again.
The basketball team fizzled out without a proper leader at the helm. A lot of up-&-coming athletes and stuntsters were really disappointed by that, so they ended up starting their own little posse in honor of the team that died before its time.
Oh also their biker jackets are totally stitched together from old team jerseys or merch whenever possible. Now, like 15 years down the line or whatever, they're getting slightly harder to find & people are starting to DIY some. But like, Hollis' & Kevin's are definitely OG.
#taz#taz amnesty#bigfoot stole my car#the adventure zone#the mcelroys#griffin mcelroy#headcanon#taz headcanon#taz the hornets#taz hollis
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As a professional archaeologist in long-standing, Dr. Clyde “West Virginia” Hammersmith knew better than to get “handsy” with new finds.
However, after having spent nine years searching for the long-lost tomb of Mayan Princess Tecuith Akna, he felt he deserved just to touch one “no doubt minor” he told himself, item in the vast site.
SNAP! CRACKLE! GLEAM!
Of course, it was cursed, thought Dr. Hammersmith. Not that he believed in things like curses. But the fact he was now the living image of the long dead princess made him consider rethinking the whole “curses aren't real” mindset of his.
Returning to the university (and quite the journey that was! In large part due to the fact that every time Hammersmith put on modern clothing, it changed to Mayan classic in just a few hours), Dr. Hammersmith in her new form of Princess Tecuith Akna made a passionate and compelling argument to Doctor William Sikes, the head of the archaeology department, and Tom Kepler the Dean of the university, as to why she had to be accepted and accredited with a full Ph.D. as she now was and given his old position in the school.
Both said “No.”
So Hammersmith was left with no other option but to toss cursed coins at the pair, turning them into two of Akna’s Ladies in Waiting.
That convinced them to help.
Soon, Miskatonic University saw the arrival of Doctor Bonny T. Akna in the place of the missing “West Virginia.”
On the first day of class, Dr. Akna thought, “I hope the full regalia isn’t too much.” adjusting her crown, “I’m really going to have to do some research to see if I can get myself into modern clothing.”
Eventually, Dr. Akna was able to do that, but not before she had turned a third of the university staff and half her students into Mayan Handmaidens, Serving Girls and Ladies in Waiting, three of them also apparently into intriguing “human lizard women!”
Academia can be strange.
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@pine-guards-chosen-one
One thing Allister had a lot of was free time, it was one of the perks of having a longer lifespan and, well... insomnia. One thing they did when they had the chance was fly across the country to West Virginia to spent a few days hoping to find a familiar face. But after a week of searching, the trip had been a bust, just like the last few trips...
So, they were planning on heading home. But not before stopping in a gas station for some snacks, and maybe a souvenir to bring back to Opal. They’d never stopped in Kepler before, since they usually tried new towns every time, and their grandmother loved collecting the little magnets they brought back.
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into silvain (anabasis)
So I read a travelogue and was inspired to write in first person. This does not have anything approaching a complete plot but I think I had some interesting ideas. And there are pictures!
I will not detail how and why I first resolved to visit Silvain; suffice it to say that the desire bloomed in me young. However, it was with this desire in mind that I entered college, and it was with this desire in mind that, after graduation, I sought, was offered, and accepted a job with the FBI, which was at that time the United States government bureau with jurisdiction over the gateway. A few short years later I was posted to West Virginia, and I finally had my opportunity.
Even considering the anxiety that had consumed me as I applied for jobs at the Bureau, the few months before I crossed the gate were the most stressful of my life. I had almost no idea what I was preparing myself for, working only from rumors from the 1940s and the testimony of the government, which I was not at all sure I could trust, knowing that it was at best colored by prejudice and at worst outright lies. The information I trusted the best were the letters sent by one Ranger Wayne “Duck” Newton, donated by his sister Jane to the Kepler Historical Society.
I had reread them so often that I almost felt like I knew the man personally. In his letters Newton described the inhabitants of Silvain with polite curiosity and occasional wonderment, and was concerned with the welfare of his family, his friends, and his cat. Nothing about his accounts made Silvain seem scary, except for the fact that he had never returned.
Out of respect for natural security, I will not detail how I infiltrated the highly secure area surrounding the gate on the Earth side. But it was a moonless night, a few minutes past midnight, and my body was thrumming with anticipation and excitement.
The gate was enclosed in a warehouse built specially for the purpose, with metal walls and a metal roof that reverberated noisily when it rained. The floor was dirt and the remains of the grass that had died from lack of sunlight when the warehouse was built. I did not linger there tonight, but hurried straight to the gate, which was glowing faintly in the darkness.
I had felt certain that there would be some physical sensation as I stepped through it, that my body would in some way respond at a cellular level to being suddenly transported millions of light-years across the universe. But there was not. My cells were oblivious.
I found myself on a hillside, under a purple sky. Not the purple of evening, no, this was the purple of a sky that was always purple, in the same way ours is always blue. There were trees around me, but no birds singing in them. In the soft grass I saw the remains of a path, and so I followed it.
The quiet became more unsettling as I walked. There truly were no birds, no insects buzzing in the grass or in the air. The only sound was the grass whispering in the breeze, and my own breathing. But almost at once I could see the city on the horizon, and I quickened my pace, eager to meet it.
The city of Silvain was a city of stone. It reminded me somewhat of the pueblos of the southwestern United States. All of the buildings seemed old, and there seemed to be no expansion going on whatsoever.
The first people I saw looked human, and they seemed to take me for one of their own as well. But even though I dared not stare I could see that they were not. Their teeth were sharp, their ears pointed, their eyes varying shades of red. Then I could see people who looked completely alien, people with long hair over their whole bodies, people with the heads of other animals on human bodies. Many of these I judged to be well over seven feet tall.
I realized that there was some kind of open-air market in the town square, and many of the people passing me on the streets were carrying bags of their purchases. I had brought some currency, but expected it to be useless. I had protein bars and water bottles in my backpack, but I hoped to find some food at some point.
In the crowd here I saw my first non-humanoid animal: something shaped like a dog, but clearly an amphibian, whose owner was walking it on a leash. It spotted another in the crowd and greeted it with a strange bark, hollower than a dog’s. The amphibians looked so damp, and as I watched one sitting by a market stall I saw its owner rinsing its skin with a wet rag. Looking around, I realized there were large, flat tubs full of water scattered around the square for these creatures to refresh themselves in.
Reaching the market proper, I could see that all of the food was unrecognizable to me. There were also a lot of non-food goods, the pelts of animals I didn’t recognize, woven cloth, pottery. None of the conversations I could overhear were in English, or indeed intelligible to me whatsoever. I knew a few words of Sylph, everything Newton had transliterated in his letters, but nothing that would allow me to conduct a complicated transaction.
Then I smelled something delicious, and followed the smell to a stall tended by who I can only describe as an apeman. He was over seven feet tall, covered in long, neatly-combed auburn hair. His eyes were intelligent and deep-brown. He seemed naked except for the earring in his left ear, which consisted of several strands of fine gold chain.
Somewhat laboriously I managed to pronounce the sylph word for hello. The apeman said it back, much more fluidly and with different pronunciation, but I was relieved to have made myself understood.
Then he said, in perfect American English, “You’re from Earth, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?” I said back. “You speak English?”
“Yes, and you’re lucky you found me, because I’m the only person in this whole square who does. I’m Barclay.” His smile displayed sharp, apelike teeth.
I paused for a moment before introducing myself. For so long I’d introduced myself only as Agent Stern, the person I was at work. But now I smiled back and said “My name is Joseph. What are you selling?” The objects in his display case looked for all the world like -
“Pepperoni rolls,” said Barclay.
“Really?” I said. These were a local West Virginia delicacy. “We have those on Earth.”
“I know,” he said. “Here, have one, and tell me if it’s authentic or not.”
I pulled out my wallet, but he stopped me. “No, no, on the house.”
“Really? Thank you!” I took the pepperoni roll he offered me. I am not a native West Virginian and so I could not hope to vouch for its authenticity, but I found his version delicious.
“So, what brings you to Silvain?” said Barclay once I had given my compliments.
“I wanted to know what it’s like,” I said.
“The government didn’t send you?” he said, a little warily.
“No.”
“Well, you’ll need to go to the palace.”
“I don’t know where that is.”
“Let me take you.”
This made me a little nervous, since I didn’t know if the authorities in Silvain would be as hostile to the idea of my being here as the authorities in the United States would have been, but I had no choice but to agree, especially since I had no idea whether Barclay might resort to force if I did not comply, and he could certainly overpower me easily. “Alright,” I said.
Barclay conferred briefly with the being at the stall next to his, seemingly to ask her to watch his wares while he escorted me to the palace, and then we were off.
Silvain seemed to me to be a tight-knit community; Barclay called greetings to many of the other people we passed and even bent down to pat one of the strange frog-creatures. But we still made our way in good time to the palace that loomed over the square. Out in front, on a platform in the front steps, was a statue made of what looked like pink marble of a very strange entity. It was humanoid, except it had four arms plus a pair of wings, its four hands spread beatifically. Its stone eyes were open wide, and it had a pair of feathery antennae carved so delicately that the stone was translucent.
I could only conclude that this was some kind of deity or mythical spirit, because no one I had seen in the square looked like this at all. There were other insect people, but none with wings like this.
Barclay ignored the statue as he led me past it. There was one indifferent-looking guard holding a spear at the entrance to the castle, but when Barclay stopped to talk to them they just waved us through. Inside we were stopped by another humanoid-looking Sylph, who said something to Barclay and then looked expectantly at me.
“She wants you to open your mouth,” said Barclay apologetically. “To check that you’re human.”
I did so. The humanoid sylph guffawed at me and then walked off.
“I’m sorry,” said Barclay. “A lot of people around here still aren’t used to seeing humans.”
“Is anyone used to seeing humans?”
Barclay hesitated for a moment, like he’d let something slip that he shouldn’t have. Was I not the only human to have slipped through the gate? “Not really,” said Barclay finally.
He led us through the palace like he knew where he was going. “Do you hold some kind of official position here?” I asked.
“No,” said Barclay. “Well, sometimes I cook when there’s a special event.”
I realized then that either Silvain was a tight-knit community or I had just gotten very lucky. (Or unlucky. At that point I didn’t yet know which.)
Barclay knocked on a set of double doors, and a voice from within called “Come in!”
Barclay opened the door, and we entered the room. There were four people sitting around a huge rectangular table, in front of the remains of a meal. I was surprised to see that one of the four people looked exactly like the statue outside: a humanoid moth with four arms and huge, red eyes. Two of the others looked humanoid - a girl and an older woman - and the fourth looked like a man with the head of a goat, fine gold chain wrapped around his horns.
The jewelry on all of them, in fact, was absolutely spectacular. The girl was wearing a gold crown with jewels set into it that looked like it should be too heavy for her head, the woman had heavy rings on almost all of her fingers. The moth-person was wearing rings on all four of his hands connected by fine gold chain to the bangles on his wrists, all of which glittered with stones that looked like diamonds, except that they were pink and reflected the light in even more brilliant rainbows. The dishware on the table was silver and gold, too, the handles of their silverware masterfully carved into fantastic shapes. Each silver drinking cup was shaped into the head of an antelope-like animal.
Barclay was saying something in Sylph, and this time I caught the word Earth.
“Welcome,” the mothperson said, getting immediately to his feet, and extending one of his right hands for a handshake. “My name is Indrid Cold. It is an honor to meet you.” His rings were cold against my skin.
“Joseph Stern,” I said. “It’s an honor to be here.”
“What brings you here?” said the goatman, studying me with his amber, square-pupiled eyes.
“I just wanted to see what Silvain was like,” I said, and realized how lame it sounded. “Are visitors not allowed?”
“No, no, visitors are welcome,” said the goatman. The girl and the woman looked much less pleased.
“I would be happy to host you at my home,” said Indrid. “And show you around anyplace you’d like to see.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I don’t mean to interrupt you.”
“No, no, now is the perfect time for us to go. I’m sure Barclay would like to get back to the market, but you’re coming over for dinner, right?”
“Yep,” said Barclay.
With this Indrid ushered Barclay and I out of the room and we left the palace again.
“Our cups are shaped like a kouprey,” said Indrid as we went back through the empty halls of the palace.
“What?” I said.
“You were thinking about asking. They’re not around anymore, so you won’t be able to be a live one.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know how much you know about Silvain, Mr. Stern, but much of it is not around anymore.”
“They might still be out there somewhere,” said Barclay.
Indrid made a pessimistic noise as we reached the front door again.
“Well, I’ll see you at dinner. It was very nice to meet you, Joseph.” Barclay waved goodbye to us and hurried back down the palace steps.
“Is that a statue of you?” I asked as Indrid and I descended the steps as well at a more leisurely pace.
“No,” said Indrid. “That is my great-grandfather, Archilochus Cold.”
“Are you…” I struggled for the right word. Newton had not been very interested in the political structure of Silvain. “In charge here?”
“Goodness no,” said Indrid. “I’m only the court seer. But I have… you might say I have a soft spot for humans. So does Vincent, but my brother would never let him bring one home with him.”
“Do you get many humans here?”
“Oh, no. Especially not anymore. Has your government started letting people through the gate again?”
“No,” I admitted.
“I admire your ingenuity,” he said, seemingly sincerely.
“Why isn’t a lot of Silvain around anymore?”
“That is a conversation we can have once we get home.”
The people we passed in the market didn’t even give Indrid a second glance, which seemed unfathomable to me.
Out on the edge of town we came to a row of larger houses, each surrounded by its own stone wall. Indrid unlatched one of the gates and went in. “I’m home!” he called.
Just inside the wall there was a man kneeling in front of a garden bed, weeding. He stood up and brushed off his knees to greet us. He was wearing a vintage park ranger uniform, a hat that had gone soft and shapeless with age, and he had striking eyes - one brown, one green. I could not conceal my surprise - it was Duck Newton. The man I’d thought had been dead for over a decade.
He smiled a crooked, charming smile. “Hey, ‘Drid. Who’s this?”
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my aesthetic is fictional towns that are magnets for the weird and dangerous
#welcome to night vale#wtnv#gravity falls#hatchetfield#the guy who didn't like musicals#black friday#starkid#funny#podcasts#weird#weird towns#cryptids#the adventure zone amnesty#the adventure zone#taz#taz amnesty#kepler#kepler west virginia
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[Start I.D. The first image is a sketch of Agent Stern, a tall Asian man, leaning over a counter looking into a kitchen. He is wearing a white button up shirt with a belt, and black pants and shoes. Beside him is a warm drink, probably coffee. Inside kitchen Barclay is cooking, his back to Stern. Barclay is also a tall man, with his hair up in a bun and is wearing a flannel shirt. The second image is also a sketch of Stern, this time reading a newspaper. The front says, “Bigfoot in Kepler?”. He is looking up from his newspaper and blushing because he’s looking at Barclay, c’mon. The third image is a sketch of Stern sitting at a table with his head resting on his hand. He is smiling fondly. He is also wearing the same button up white shirt, but with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The last image is a sketch of Stern and Barclay in an embrace, their foreheads touching. Stern is smiling and looking up at Barclay, and Barclay is also smiling, but with his eyes closed. End I.D.]
I don’t know, I really felt like drawing Stern and Barclay, and the sweet moments between them. I’m just thinking a lot about Amnesty right now, not sure why.
#taz amnesty#taz fanart#taz#agent stern#sternclay#barclay amnesty#agent joseph stern#The Adventure Zone#amnesty lodge#kepler west virginia#mcelroy
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i am now curious as to what TAZ is considering my name Is Literally Taz (your bio jumpscared the hell outta me)
Aw, hehe. Well, TAZ stands for The Adventure Zone! It's a podcast hosted by the McElroys where they play TTRPGs together which usually end up being really fun, well-written, goofy-ass, tearjerker stories, and it started with them playing D&D! That campaign is called TAZ: Balance now and it is one of my favorite stories of all time. With some of my favorite characters of all time! And the whole thing just means a lot to me. I used to make tons of art of it back in the day, heh.
It'll always have a special place in my heart, and it's a big, big recommend. (There is also a graphic novel series on progress of it!! It's real real good too.)
Also, I got one of my names, Kepler, from one of their other campaigns - TAZ: Amnesty! Kepler, West Virginia is the town that story is set in. ^v^
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my toxic trait is imagining ryan reynolds instead of ryan gosling throughout the entirety of TAZ Amnesty.
#the adventure zone#griffin mcelroy#justin mcelroy#travis mcelroy#clint mcelroy#taz amnesty#billy the goatman#duck newton#aubrey little#ned chicane#kepler west virginia#amnesty lodge#the adventure zone amnesty
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GRIFFIN
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// Kepler, West Virginia //
#layout#school stuff#taz#taz amnesty#The Adventure Zone#the adventure zone amnesty#thezonecast#cryptonomica#ned chicane#taz ned#kepler#kepler wv#kepler west virginia#west virginia#digital art#artists on tumblr#fanart#100#500#1000
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D E N T A T A
[Id: Digital painting of Minerva looking at the town of Kepler from above on a mountain. It’s sunrise. Minerva is a brown skinned woman with pointy ears, and blue tattoos on her bald head and face. Minerva’s back is to the viewer, and on her shadow there are stars. She is wearing a scarf, jacket and dark pants. Around Kepler is dense forest.]
This was a commission for @owlinaminor! I am super honored I got illustrate a cover to her Minerva character study, that can be read. here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028467
#taz#The Adventure Zone#thezonecast#taz minerva#taz amnesty#the adventure zone amnesty#digital art#digital painting#sunrise#kepler west virginia
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