Hello, [Archivist]. Apologies for the deception.
—Statement #0181810: The Eye Opens_

A porcelein tea cup upon a plate. The cup is gold rimmed and has a gold handle, with a white stripe in the uppermost portion and the rest of the cup being green. The plate is also gold rimmed, with green stripe bordering the white center. The green stripe on the place is decorated with a white eyes with dark green lies beneath them. The plate itself has ridges, and the eye patterning is designed to line up with them. An eye floats in the tea inside, and strewn around the cup is cassette tape. The cassette itself leans against the cup.


It took me, one of the many archivists of this world, exactly one-hundred-and-sixty episodes in order to realize, I am the Archivist. Throughout my life, I was crafted to Watch and Observe, recording the uncanny information that would otherwise unsettle the average person. With that indexing came the subtle paranoia, the worry I would Know something about you, the fear that the Ceaseless Watcher lavished in. What exactly unlocked that for me? It's a puzzling thing, really, seeing there's nothing particularly of note in that statement, besides of course, the "eyecopalypse" as many mortal folk have dubbed it. No, it's the words deception that clicked.

As you may have assumed, the Archivist of the Warlock Archive is a Warlock themselves. An Oathbreaker, one who went against their Coven, and only months later, went against the Wiccan Rede entirely. I was confined by it, nested in a toxic enviorment and broke free through betrayal. I fated myself to a solitary path, and with time, it became an Archetrope, one I was not fully concious of. I was familiar with the concept of an Archtroper, feeling called to the identity but believing I did not have an Archtrope. It would not be until much later that I would realize I was an Archetroper, surrounded by others. And that, both my Archetropes, were born from deception.

What had caused things to begin to click was the very words, "Apologies for the deception." It stuck some unconcious cord and set the wheel in motion, and that was the very moment I decided to engage with the Beholding as my Patron. Yet, I still did not consider myself the Archivist, rather, an Archivist. I considered my indexing a hobby, even though I hungered for statements and knowledge, even though it tangled with my synesthesia and I would taste the words on the page.

It would take time, and some callouts on my reactions to situations, for me to finally accept my identity as not only the Archivist, but also the Warlock.

As of now, this is only but my second time calling myself as such, and I'm glad that you, dear Watcher, are here to experience it.

My experience with alterhumanity and paganism is diverse and complex. My archetrope plays into how I carry out my practice, as I go down the lonely Crooked Path as a proud Warlock. My alterhumanity plays into my beliefs, trotting after the Dreadful Ones as a budding eldritch fledgling. My godshards distances me from the normal perspective of gods, as I hold a shard of the End. It all ties into a complex net as I pull strings, wonderfully blended into all the entities.

Most avatars settle with one or two, but my experiences "filling the bingo card" as we say in the corresponding server, and my reality as a plural person has granted me flavors for each one, my domain consequently being a recreation of the Hunger Games, throwing the members of my campaign into each and every fear. It's interesting, really, how the cards life deals you weave so intricantly with the path you set upon.

You may wonder, where am I going with this? What grand conclusion do I hold?
Well, apologies for the deception, Watcher, but I just introduced myself.
—The Archivist (It/Its)