my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “the fifth city” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.

5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw a talking tiger smoking a hookah

my buddy february, pacing: we have to kill the sun

a little peaceful moment of my Fallen London OC dreaming of their past life on the surface ft. all their animal companions <3

so i keep seeing fallen london posts on my dash and getting curious about it bc oh hey, i used to play that game ages ago, it looks like they've added all kinds of neat shit to it since then?

and i logged in to my old account, and

i'd forgotten that the last time i'd played fallen london, several years ago, i was in a relationship both irl and in the game. both those things are no longer true.

unfortunately, since (i'm assuming) my ex logged in and broke off the relationship in-game before our avatars could actually make it to the altar, i'm now stuck on the marriage event with no way to go forward and no way to leave this dialogue box.

unable to proceed, unable to retreat, literally stuck in some kind of eternal Divorce Limbo. this is levels of divorced previously only reached by harry du bois from disco elysium i think.

fallen london is a great game! love to actually play it sometime.

thought i’d share some of my fallen london playlists!!

fallen london / mysterious and indistinct (the unterzee) / seeking mr eaten’s name / THESUNTHESUNTHESUN

All Fallen London plotlines come to a sudden end in early 1977, as The Bazaar finally knows what message to bring to the Sun upon listening to "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac.

Fallen London and the US West

I very much doubt this was intentional but one of the things that drew me to the Fallen London broader universe is that it resonated deeply with me as a resident of the US West. Not California, to be clear, which I think we and they would agree is kind of its own thing, but the more inland west.

I first got into Fallen London though sunless sea, back when I think it was still called the Echo Bazaar. Sunless sea speaks to me in the sense of a deep sense of isolation and danger traveling between ports, with tentative but temporary safety when you reach each one. Obviously things are much safer here now, but the US west is, by nature, one of the least hospitable environments for settled human life on this planet, and while we don't have giant screaming mountains, we also don't not have giant screaming mountains. It's dangerous, and whenever I end up driving to a rural part of the state and see "no gas for 60 miles" or equivalent signs I get a sense of caution that the game, and later sunless skies, has definitely evoked in me. It's not the same as it was, and things are much safer, but travel where the environment hates you and the place you're going might not even be there when you arrive is part of the storytellling fabric of this region, even before the advent of US settler colonialism.

Another and perhaps less enjoyable element I find resonance with as a Westerner is the deep, fanatical paranoia and individual isolation found in the SMEN storyline. Doomed chosen are also very popular here, less in myth and more that doomsday cults are a dime a dozen in the US West. Cadillac Desert My Marc Reisner perfectly encapsulates how the US West was built on faith, lies, and speculative capitalism, and I think there is an element of the people who ended up staying, not going bankrupt during the Dust Bowl or any of the myriad banking collapses of a sort of unhinged true believer. It makes no sense to farm and irrigate here, not to the extent we do it and not where we do it. Those who stay are always vulnerable to the elements, even now. Droughts have real effects, fires, everything. People lose their minds out on the plains, in what was formerly (and still should be) known as the Great American Desert. The West is a place for the unstable, the fanatical, and the destructive. Unfortunately this is also a part of our region.

The final thing is a lot less poetic and just that the GHR storyline is very western both in reality and in terms of Western as a literary genre. You're building a railway through mysterious lands and playing with old depths and the magic of the betrayed. It's right there. The railway is even going west.

Perhaps the best outcome for the Bazaar would be to descend the chain and never return to the Sun. If it became a Curator, would it be Ms Echoes?

[...] Mr fires itself briefly considered breaking new grounds by being the first master of the bazaar to adopt the female gender as its own, but it refrained when it realised its unwed status would force it into a rather unfortunate name for one in its line of business.

Rake's Weekly, citizen's interest column on September 22nd 1899

Ok ok I feel like enough people have joked about how funny it is that, in fallen London, you could just be talking to someone and mention something slightly worrying and they immediately go into a state of some confusion. Funny but, have you considered someone slightly stammering and immediately marching off to exile themselves to the tomb colony's for the sheer scandal!

…cosmogone on the corners of each eye, to banish your dark circles, and with violant lips, they’ll never forget your name…

wanted to redraw something i drew a long time ago

A Bad End. An older piece I did for Inktober but never posted anywhere. This is obviously your favourite Mysterious Space Bat. And if you know you know.

So, is it too late to do this joke? I was looking at all of those Grimace Milkshake memes and realized that the bright purple drink seemed to be the same color as Irrigo, the Fallen London color of forgetfulness. Put two-and-two together and BOOM, Fallen London/Grimace Milkshake joke.

Rev Up Those Fryers, Cause I Am Sure Hungry For One-

memories of sunlight

huevember day 3

It's not unheard of for a friend to be away for a long while in Roland's line of work. He'd known Cruz moved in the periphery of major players, so he didn't worry until someone claiming to be Cruz had said some half-informed thing about his "tastes," the implications hanging off of it like a caul. It wasn't a serious matter in the end, though. Some poisonous frog found its way to the person's washroom. Truly a terrible accident.

...Truly, actually. When the invite to Caligula's came from the same address in Cruz's handwriting, Roland paled, sitting down with his head in his hands. It had to have been a clever placement. Or a particularly mean frog. Possibly even a disproportionate reaction on his part. Regardless, it was still a mistake. He wrote back immediately, accepting and apologizing, without so much as a smudge. Brushing aside the discarded attempts at getting it just right, he sealed the letter and handed it to a messenger bat.

The morning of

Rolnd chose a nice little place close enough to the corner for privacy, but visible enough to not look clandestine. He waits for Cruz with a plate of scones and a cup for them both. He stands, offering to take their coat. "'Uncalled for.' I make you the talk of every salon this weekend, and you say it's uncalled for." He smiles, but with a relief and, actually showing through the polish, regret. "Scone?"

@cruzmerida

okayokayokay

if your fallen london pc has The Evidence of Clay Surgeries or whatever tf it’s called and you have a piece of you that is Clay Man

and you enjoy a nice hot luxurious soak in your brass embassy suite, or a bracing dip in your black stone gymnasium

does. your clay part. get. squishy.

can the pc just like, poke the arm and dent it. can you give yourself a slightly different ring size.