anderson_builder
The King in Classic Yellow
When I first saw the Yellow Sign, it shown from my workbench from within a pile of spare parts. The pieces had been set down and shifted at random - mutable, yet the sigil was unmistakable. Staring into it, my vision clouded and blackened. A haze began to form, and in its gaps, blurred lights shown through rough shades of blue. My time on the seas has often led me to visualize the stars as an endless ocean. And that’s where I saw the cursed place. The kingdom city of lost Carcosa.
A lone figure stood atop one of its bizarre towers. The King. Unending, domineering, and sadistic. Visually, I remember nothing, but the emptiness of thought is its own reminder. When my mind returned to my senses, before me sat the most curious of creations. A crude statue of my crude understanding of the entity. Built from the pieces the very same yellow mark had revealed itself with.
Time has passed and yet I’m still burdened with ill headaches of ill fated knowledge. The symbol is scorched into my brain. My mind is plagued with questions; What do I do now? What’s really important anymore? Why would my liege look upon me once and now refuse to look again? There is one unconquerable thing I know for sure - through fear or admiration - I cannot, I dare not, destroy that now precious idol.
Inspired by ‘The King in Yellow’ by Robert W. Chambers (1895)
The King in Classic Yellow
When I first saw the Yellow Sign, it shown from my workbench from within a pile of spare parts. The pieces had been set down and shifted at random - mutable, yet the sigil was unmistakable. Staring into it, my vision clouded and blackened. A haze began to form, and in its gaps, blurred lights shown through rough shades of blue. My time on the seas has often led me to visualize the stars as an endless ocean. And that’s where I saw the cursed place. The kingdom city of lost Carcosa.
A lone figure stood atop one of its bizarre towers. The King. Unending, domineering, and sadistic. Visually, I remember nothing, but the emptiness of thought is its own reminder. When my mind returned to my senses, before me sat the most curious of creations. A crude statue of my crude understanding of the entity. Built from the pieces the very same yellow mark had revealed itself with.
Time has passed and yet I’m still burdened with ill headaches of ill fated knowledge. The symbol is scorched into my brain. My mind is plagued with questions; What do I do now? What’s really important anymore? Why would my liege look upon me once and now refuse to look again? There is one unconquerable thing I know for sure - through fear or admiration - I cannot, I dare not, destroy that now precious idol.
Inspired by ‘The King in Yellow’ by Robert W. Chambers (1895)