I don’t know about other cultures, but in English folklore, when a beekeeper dies someone has to go out and tell the bees.

Imagine you’re a neolithic hunter-gatherer, just hanging out, sacrificing stuff to your god, when a new god you’ve never met before shows up and tells you that your god is dead, it’s not your fault or anything, and maybe a new god will come along to take care of you, maybe not, it’s gonna be touch and go for a while

Apparently in medieval Europe they also whispered secrets to the bees.

So imagine the mildly eldritch God you worship talks to you and tells you secrets, but these secrets make no sense to you and are incomprehensible to understand or even know they are secrets. But your God does make vibrations at you, so thats probably a good thing right??

Also occasionally the Swarm decides there is not enough room in the Hive because the eldritch god didn't take the offering of Honey at their normal time. So enough of a Swarm builds up that the second queen is able to leave without decimating the first Swarm. They are all set to search out a new place that will likely not have your God anymore (but really that's not too much of a struggle, they have abandoned you, that's part of why you've left, even though the first Swarm still holds out hope for their return).

And then, the scouts find another Hive right next to the old Hive. Literally right next to it. So the Queen lands to inspect it and wow, it's a good deal. The area already has enough food to support 2 Hives, so it's a not problem to stay in the area now that they have the space, but...this wasn't here before.

And then you see God, they've come to help the Swarm move to the new Hive and take the offering from the old Hive. Truly this must have been their plan all along

In English folklore, you ALSO have to invite your bees to your wedding, and decorate their hive, and leave a slice of cake for them, and also bring your new spouse by to introduce them to the hive straightaway. Imagine your eldritch god doing THAT.

#these polite beekeepers are just modeling the behavior they would like to see from their own god maybe? #perhaps if we could sting God he would tell us secrets

"This is my weird son. He can't climb for shit, but he is handsome and strong."

#cats be like#is anybody adopt that#and don't wait for an answer

Everything that isn't food is a cat from the perspective of a cat. Cats can look upon the true form of eldritch monstrosities and keep their sanity. They'd just see another cat. A fucking weird-looking cat, but a cat nonetheless.

“Those tentacles will take a lot of licking to keep clean, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Hold still, kitten.”

Robots punching Cthulu, let’s goooooo

I don’t know about other cultures, but in English folklore, when a beekeeper dies someone has to go out and tell the bees.

Imagine you’re a neolithic hunter-gatherer, just hanging out, sacrificing stuff to your god, when a new god you’ve never met before shows up and tells you that your god is dead, it’s not your fault or anything, and maybe a new god will come along to take care of you, maybe not, it’s gonna be touch and go for a while

Apparently in medieval Europe they also whispered secrets to the bees.

So imagine the mildly eldritch God you worship talks to you and tells you secrets, but these secrets make no sense to you and are incomprehensible to understand or even know they are secrets. But your God does make vibrations at you, so thats probably a good thing right??

Also occasionally the Swarm decides there is not enough room in the Hive because the eldritch god didn't take the offering of Honey at their normal time. So enough of a Swarm builds up that the second queen is able to leave without decimating the first Swarm. They are all set to search out a new place that will likely not have your God anymore (but really that's not too much of a struggle, they have abandoned you, that's part of why you've left, even though the first Swarm still holds out hope for their return).

And then, the scouts find another Hive right next to the old Hive. Literally right next to it. So the Queen lands to inspect it and wow, it's a good deal. The area already has enough food to support 2 Hives, so it's a not problem to stay in the area now that they have the space, but...this wasn't here before.

And then you see God, they've come to help the Swarm move to the new Hive and take the offering from the old Hive. Truly this must have been their plan all along

In English folklore, you ALSO have to invite your bees to your wedding, and decorate their hive, and leave a slice of cake for them, and also bring your new spouse by to introduce them to the hive straightaway. Imagine your eldritch god doing THAT.

Also, I realized something about the name I made up, so here’s a song:

When the moon splits in two and your nightmares come true, Vithimorex...

When the world seems to bleed since the dead god was freed, Vithimorex...

That is definitely a fun RPG idea

I didn’t know a train could be an eldritch horror, but here we are.

you asked and I delivered. Fucked up train mimic based on both boiler explosions and broken drive rods. He’s such a little man.

I love it! Look at those creepy little leggies. Just imagine a train approaching on the track beside you, then slowing, then sTAndINg Up, and skittering toward you. Time for the pants-wetting Olympics!

“My Great Destroyer, Consumer of Lands, Harbinger of the Deep Seas,” you say trying to keep the exasperation from your voice, “you need to be connected to the internet to see your email.”

“{}@&_@&%(#(&@__!*_”

“Yes. Can you move the mouse to the lower right side of the screen? There should be some little bars that will tell you if you are connected to the wi-fi.”

“&%)!^*^$%^!_%_$}{|”

“No my Great and Terrible the wi-fi is not a rival god from the desert lands, it’s just the technology that let’s you see your email.”

“!*&){}|@*#”

“Good, that means you are connected to the internet. Now if you can open your browser, Mozilla Firefox, Google Chrome, or even Microsoft Edge.”

“!@^&)(&@!&&&@}|”

You mute yourself so you can swear. “Yes, you can use Internet Explorer to access your AOL email account. If I may offer a suggestion?”

“$%^&*@”

“It will be easier in the long run, I promise. But Microsoft stopped supporting Internet Explorer a long time ago, and AOL is barely a company anymore. If you will let me walk you through some steps we can get you a modern web browser and a brand new email-”

“&^$}”

“Yes, with all of your old email.”

—-

Five hours of your life later, you’ve got the deep sea eldritch god set up with Firefox and a new email with forwarding from it’s old email. Just when you start to think that this job isn’t remotely worth it, a small crab-like creature crawls across your desk. (you can’t in good conscious call it a crab because it somehow has both too many eyes, legs, and pincers, and not enough of the same. yet your brain interprets the being as “crab”)

It’s about the size of a coffee mug and it holds something up for you, shaking one of it’s many claws at you.

You take the small thing, and crab scuttles away to where ever it came from.

The small thing in your palm seems to be a tiny treasure chest, the kind of thing that you’d put in a goldfish bowl. It feels wet and the kind of slimy something gets from being covered in seaweed.

You put it down on your desk just in time for it to rapidly expand, cracking a support on your desk and covering you in sea water.

Before you can get mad about it the chest opens revealing a small horde of gold, jewels, and a bottle of what you have to assume is pirate rum.

“Oh! Cool!” one of your coworkers say as they pop their head up over the cubicle wall. “I wish I got pirate booty once in a while.”

“Why, what did Thyrien, Emissary of the Sun, give you for helping them recover their steam library?” you ask.

“A sense of peace and calm about my life and place in the world.”

“Oh sounds nice.”

“It is. They also gave me this ceremonial headdress.” You coworker disappears for a moment and puts on a giant headdress that appears to be made from gold and platinum and has several truly giant diamonds all over it.

“Wow,” you say.

“Yeah, I’m thinking I should wear this to the next company mixer.”

Well if a bunch of ants formed a circle in my house I’d certainly notice, try to figure out where they’d all come from, and possibly wreak destruction there.

That’s why knowing and correctly pronouncing the true name is so important to the ritual. Imagine how impossible it would be to not go take a look if the circle of ants started chanting your name.

And they’re like, you can’t leave because we drew a line made of tiny crystals - now you have to do us a favor.

And you’re like, let’s just see where this goes “yup, you got me… what’s the favor?”

and usually the favor is like, “kill this one ant for us” or “give me a pile of sugar” and you’re like… okay? and you do, because why not, it isn’t hard for you and boy is this going to be a fucking story to tell, these fucking ants chanting your name and wanting a spoonful of sugar or whatever.

And SOMEtimes you get asked for things you can’t really do, one of them, she’s like, “I love this ant but she won’t pay any attention to me, make me important to her” and you’re like… um? how? So you just kill every ant in the colony except the two of them, ta-da! problem solved! and the first ant is like *horrified whisper* “what have I done”

This is the best explanation for higher powers I’ve ever really heard.

I didn’t know a train could be an eldritch horror, but here we are.