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| The Archivist is entirely in his right mind, and is simply ''choosing'' not to believe what has befallen him and his followers; it might be said that his rites are a coping strategy, and for those who cannot make use of such a thing, he has nothing else to offer.<ref>{{Citation|https://sunlessskies.fandom.com/wiki/The_Illuminated_Archivist|Finish your education (Doubt)|Sunless Skies|}} ''""Of course we know this is all so much make-believe! We've been trapped out here for years, no way back. We glean what we can from our scavenging and play out our lives as if we had never come here." He smiles sadly. "I'm sure you meant well. But this is the only real lesson I have to teach.""''</ref> | | The Archivist is entirely in his right mind, and is simply ''choosing'' not to believe what has befallen him and his followers; it might be said that his rites are a coping strategy, and for those who cannot make use of such a thing, he has nothing else to offer.<ref>{{Citation|https://sunlessskies.fandom.com/wiki/The_Illuminated_Archivist|Finish your education (Doubt)|Sunless Skies|}} ''""Of course we know this is all so much make-believe! We've been trapped out here for years, no way back. We glean what we can from our scavenging and play out our lives as if we had never come here." He smiles sadly. "I'm sure you meant well. But this is the only real lesson I have to teach.""''</ref> |
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| | Before coming to the skies, the Archivist resided on the [[Roof of the Neath]], where he was a diviner of the apocryphal futures held within [[Zenith]].<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Speak_with_the_Illuminated_Archivist|Speak with the Illuminated Archivist|Fallen London|}} ''""We have been bidden to stay, and guard the icons." He mixes inks and prepares needles. "[...] We must know how the Apocrypha fare, that we may aid the Immanent's works.""''</ref><ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Tell_him_of_the_Apocrypha_you_witnessed|Tell him of the Apocrypha you witnessed|Fallen London|}} ''"The Illuminated Archivist is bent over his own body, muttering as he translates your words to historiated text in pictorial roof-tongue."''</ref> He was already very old at this point in time.<ref>{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Speak_with_the_Illuminated_Archivist|Speak with the Illuminated Archivist|Fallen London|}} ''"[...] you have been before, and survived. We have not. And [...] I am very old."''</ref> He was also already covered in [[violant]] and [[apocyan]] tattoos<ref name=":1">{{Citation|https://fallenlondon.wiki/wiki/Reporting_to_the_Illuminated_Archivist|Reporting to the Illuminated Archivist|Fallen London|}} ''"His skin is a nest of tattoos in violant and apocyan inks. When he runs out of skin, he retreats to a shaping pool. "One day," he is fond of saying, "I shall be a citadel, ripe with history.""''</ref> - inks associated with the preservation of memory - and said often that he wished to become "a citadel, ripe with history."<ref name=":1" /> |
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| == References == | | == References == |
Revision as of 18:11, 25 October 2024
"Your voice joins the others in chorus. You chant from a hymnal, of Old London: a place gaslit and hidden, deep and dark and marvellous."[1]
The Supralapsarians are a cult that has risen to prominence among Albion's outcasts. They reside on the flotilla of abandoned ships that drifts on the Quiet Sea, just past the Avid Horizon.[2]
The Supralapsarians long for Old London, and choose to simply pretend they never left for the skies at all.[3][4] They take solace in remembering a time when things were better,[5] though this may extend to outright denial of their current circumstances.[6][7] They preserve their proper Victorian table manners at communal feasts,[8][9] to the point of treating tea and scones as holy.[10] At the hour when confessions are shared among the flotilla, they choose to reenact the rites of Hallowmas.[11]
Their leader, the Illuminated Archivist,[12] is a handsome[13] but sickly man.[14] He is covered from head to toe in tattoos;[15][16] these preserve scraps of knowledge from Old London[17] and the idea of the city as home,[18] and he refers to them as "the Word" - the Supralapsarians' founding text.[19][15] The Archivist lives in a rotting London steamer, which is adorned with memorabilia from the old city.[20]
The Archivist is entirely in his right mind, and is simply choosing not to believe what has befallen him and his followers; it might be said that his rites are a coping strategy, and for those who cannot make use of such a thing, he has nothing else to offer.[21]
Before coming to the skies, the Archivist resided on the Roof of the Neath, where he was a diviner of the apocryphal futures held within Zenith.[22][23] He was already very old at this point in time.[24] He was also already covered in violant and apocyan tattoos[25] - inks associated with the preservation of memory - and said often that he wished to become "a citadel, ripe with history."[25]
References
- ↑ Sing (of the place you left behind), Sunless Skies
- ↑ Aboard the Flotilla, Sunless Skies "Here, among abandoned boats on the Quiet Sea, the similarly abandoned and forgotten of Albion have made their homes. The cults share this space; for warmth and for shelter. Some boats are covered, others converted into makeshift anchorages, refectories and cells."
- ↑ Ask about the Supralapsarians, Sunless Skies "The Archivist smiles blissfully. "We are those who were left behind, so we have decided that we chose to stay. We keep with tradition.""
- ↑ Give a confession (of yearning), Sunless Skies "I mean that I wish to see sunlight and starlight again, but we have fallen and such things are denied to us."
- ↑ Finish your education, Sunless Skies "You understand what it is to meditate on a better world, to contemplate a time when things were better."
- ↑ Continue your study of the Word, Sunless Skies "The Illuminated Acolyte claps his hands with delight at your spread. Supralapsarians crowd into his little chamber to partake of your bounty. They speak to each other of plans to visit this or that boulevard, to attend this concert or seduce that tenor. The names that fall from their lips are but dim memories. No places bearing those titles exist on this side of the Horizon."
- ↑ Ask the Illuminated Archivist to come to Langley Hall, Sunless Skies "The Illuminated Archivist purses his lips. "Who? Where? Is that near Veilgarden? It sounds like a brothel.""
- ↑ Dine at the feast, Sunless Skies "At the end of the day, the acolytes gather for a feast. If you were cynical, you might suggest this was the only reason the sects banded together."
- ↑ Dine at the feast, Sunless Skies "You will not eat until you have located the appropriate cutlery. You pass to the left and take from the right. You won't use the tablecloth as a napkin."
- ↑ Continue your study of the Word, Sunless Skies "A feast! Not for the traitors nor the murderers. Just us. Tea – as it is written! – and scones – as it is written! – and those little cakes that melt in your mouth – as it is written!"
- ↑ What will you do with the confession you've heard? (Don a mask; an pre-celestial tradition), Sunless Skies "You follow other acolytes in choosing a flimsy wooden mask: bat, fox, cat, or bear. It denotes that you carry a confession and are available to hear others."
- ↑ Aboard the Flotilla, Sunless Skies "The Supralapsarians, who follow the Illuminated Archivist, do everything by their Book (when they can agree upon the interpretation)."
- ↑ Ask the Illuminated Archivist to come to Langley Hall, Sunless Skies "He is handsome, stubborn, and his memories are not as they should be."
- ↑ Speak with the Illuminated Archivist, Sunless Skies "The sickly leader of the Supralapsarians, he inducted you into the first of their mysteries."
- ↑ 15.0 15.1 A Conversation with an Illuminated Archivist, Sunless Skies "The man lowers his hood. His features are strident, striking, made all the more so by the lattice of tattoos marking his face like a verdant birthmark. [...] "The Word made flesh.""
- ↑ Continue your study of the Word, Sunless Skies "At last, when the dishes are cleared away and everyone has toasted the Wandering Bazaar, the Archivist unbuttons his shirt to reveal writing upon his scone-filled stomach. Scraps of poetry on the wonders of old London, deep and dark and marvellous."
- ↑ Request another reading of the Word, Sunless Skies "His emaciated breast is marked with what appears to be a timetable. "The trains leave from Moloch Street between the hours of twelve and twelve. This is on Ladybones Road. [...] And here, the address of a honey-wrecked detective is on the mend." He traces a honey vial that hangs above a rib. "Such things we have pulled from the drifts by the Gate. Messages left behind. Perhaps they came through; perhaps they were abandoned.""
- ↑ Accept, Sunless Skies "The tattoos on his collar are a jumble of words and pictures. You make out a crab and a cave, a candle and a roof. You recite the words you find there: "I am home." He embraces you, bony arms wrapped around your frame [...] "Yes, you are home. Follow me.""
- ↑ Request another reading of the Word, Sunless Skies "Bring me pen and ink. You may copy the text from my skin so that you may have it with you always, even when you travel from this place."
- ↑ The Illuminated Archivist, Sunless Skies "He has built a hide-away inside the cargo hold of a rotting London steamer. [...] Faded paintings of old music hall acts adorn the walls. Tables cram the hold, littered with hideous and broken ornaments: shepherdesses, kittens, the tentacled Rubbery Men of old London all vie for your eye."
- ↑ Finish your education (Doubt), Sunless Skies ""Of course we know this is all so much make-believe! We've been trapped out here for years, no way back. We glean what we can from our scavenging and play out our lives as if we had never come here." He smiles sadly. "I'm sure you meant well. But this is the only real lesson I have to teach.""
- ↑ Speak with the Illuminated Archivist, Fallen London ""We have been bidden to stay, and guard the icons." He mixes inks and prepares needles. "[...] We must know how the Apocrypha fare, that we may aid the Immanent's works.""
- ↑ Tell him of the Apocrypha you witnessed, Fallen London "The Illuminated Archivist is bent over his own body, muttering as he translates your words to historiated text in pictorial roof-tongue."
- ↑ Speak with the Illuminated Archivist, Fallen London "[...] you have been before, and survived. We have not. And [...] I am very old."
- ↑ 25.0 25.1 Reporting to the Illuminated Archivist, Fallen London "His skin is a nest of tattoos in violant and apocyan inks. When he runs out of skin, he retreats to a shaping pool. "One day," he is fond of saying, "I shall be a citadel, ripe with history.""
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