MOSSY GLITTER GEL PEN PRESENTS...
THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES WEBSHRINE
- THIS WEBSHRINE LOOKS BETTER ON DESKTOP BUT SHOULD BE FULLY RESPONSIVE!
- HIGHLIGHT OR SELECT ANY TEXT IN BETWEEN QUOTATIONS "LIKE THIS TO SEE SPOILERS".
- CONTENT WARNINGS INCLUDE BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO "VIOLENCE, UNSANITARY BEHAVIOUR, CLAUSTROPHOBIA, LOSS OF LOVED ONES AND DEATH. THERE IS NO SEXUAL VIOLENCE.".
General Overview
TMA was a serial English fiction podcast taking place in the equally fictional Magnus Institute, an organisation in London dedicated to researching the paranormal, the supernatural, and the occult. named after its founder, Jonah Magnus, it was formed in 1818 and has stayed true to its purpose since inception. the podcast ran from to and is two hundred episodes long, divided into five seasons with bonus content - some of which is Patreon exclusive.
it follows the newly appointed Head Archivist, Johnathan Sims, along with his assistants Sasha James, Timothy Stoker, and Martin K. Blackwood, as he attempts to aurally transcribe statements given by people who claim to have experienced supernatural events. as some of them refused to record digitally, he starts using old tape recorders for these problem statements, as well as follow-up research and notes on each statement. these are the recordings that form the entirety of TMA.
the institute is home to many secrets, many of which can kill you - WILL kill you - given half a chance. one of these secrets caused the sudden disappearance of Gertrude Robinson, the previous Head Archivist, leaving behind only a pool of blood and an incredibly unorganised archive.
THE CHARACTERS
THE ARCHIVE EMPLOYEES
Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist
Also known as: The Archivist, Archivist, Jon, John, "The Archive"Martin K. Blackwood, Archival Assistant
Also known as: "The Anti-Christ's plus one"with an air of perpetual uncertainty, Martin's way of diffusing awkward situations is by brewing tea for others and himself. tries his best and is very faithful to his job, but still doesn't quite reach the level of performance of his coworkers.
[DOOR OPENS]
MARTIN
Hey, I just wanted to check if you wanted a cup of tea?
ARCHIVIST
Uh…
MARTIN
Oh, oh, sorry, are you recording? I, I thought you were done for the day?
ARCHIVIST
[sigh] What about Martin?
MARTIN
What about me?!
ARCHIVIST
He should stay behind.
MARTIN
What?! Why!?
ELIAS
[overlapping] Really?
ARCHIVIST
Too many people might attract attention
MARTIN
No, no! I can help! I’ve been reading the statements!
ELIAS
Quite right. Probably best he does stay behind.
ARCHIVIST
Mm, I’m sure. I notice you didn’t jump out at Martin when he had a birthday.
TIM
(can hear his smile) No, he’s way too jumpy as it is.
[Martin lets out a sound of singular offense.]
TIM
We were worried he might damage himself!
MARTIN
(higher) Hey!
[Clothing sounds, as if he’s folding his arms.]
Sasha James, Archival Assistant
Also known as: Sasha; I S E E Y O Uconscientious and hard-working, Sasha is a fairly deadpan but otherwise friendly woman with strange secrets. good with computers.
is she really who she claims to be..?
MELANIE
You know who I mean. Tall, long hair, glasses… She was here when I first came in. Back last April? We had a long conversation about haunted pubs.
ARCHIVIST
No, I… I remember. But that is Sasha.
TIM
(John impression) Well, given the incoherence of this statement, I find it hard to believe it ever occurred.
[Sasha laughs.]
TIM
In fact, based on the evidence, I find it highly unlikely that Sasha ever even existed at all.
SASHA
No. You took it too far! I’m unforgettable!
[Tim laughs.]
ARCHIVIST
I should probably mention this to Sasha. I believe she takes the Victoria line to work and has a tendency to stay later than she should.
NOT!SASHA
It’s okay John; it’s Sasha. Reliable old Sasha.
Nothing to be afraid of.
…
You seem stressed, John. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. You should talk about it.
NOT!SASHA
And let’s have no more of this paranoia.
Timothy Stoker, Archival Assistant
Also known as: Tim;leaving his job in publishing to join the institute, Tim is initially an easygoing jokester with a tendency to flirt his way into getting information for statement follow-ups.
ARCHIVIST
{...} Tim came through with this one and managed to get hold of Ms. Patel’s medical records. God knows how he got them, but he’d better not be using Institute funds to woo filing clerks again.
ARCHIVIST
{...} we’re having to rely on Tim’s involvement with certain staff at the police records office. Apparently, he is involved both with one of the young ladies there, as well as the gentleman who manages the other shift.
SASHA
When I got here, I realised I needn’t have worried so much about the time. You were having some argument with Tim about… um, oh, who’s that architect he’s obsessed with?
ARCHIVIST
(slightly disgusted) Robert Smirke.
ARCHIVIST
The other major point of interest is the fact that this complex appears to have been designed by Robert Smirke. You should have seen Tim’s face when I told him. Architecture is one of his specialist areas, and he has always talked of Smirke as one that fascinates him. How did he phrase it? “A master of subtle stability.” From a professional standpoint, it also interests him that Smirke’s buildings have higher percentages of reported paranormal sightings than any other architect of similar profile.
Elias Bouchard, Head of the Magnus Institute
Also known as:current head of the magnus institute. finds joy in managing the paperwork of bureaucracy.
ARCHIVIST
Much as I want to dig further into this, especially given certain parallels with case 0161301, Elias gets very twitchy when we look into anything that might conceivably have funding repercussions.
ELIAS
Thank you all for coming.
[VARIOUS SIGHS AND EXASPERATED NOISES]
Gertrude Robinson, (Former) Head Archivist
Also known as:former Head Archivist until her sudden and violent disappearance. has left the archives in a state of absolute disarray.
THE AVATARS
THE FEARS
Also known as: The Dread Powers; The Entities; Gods;ever shifting, ever changing, the Entites of Fear exist in an incomprehensible way and exert power in little-understood ways. simply put, they are fear made manifest, a many-sided mass of undiscernable being where everythign from their exostence to their influence is almost wholly uncomprehensible
THE EYE
Beheld, in the Panopticon's gazethe fear of being watched. of being observed no matter where you are. of knowing terrible things, of having terrible things about you be known.
you cannot hide, It Sees You. trust no one, trust nothing. you can never know, you can never discern, no matter how hard you try. it lurks in the glance cast your way by a stranger, in the surveillance camera which follows you and only you across the store, in every real or stylised depiction of an eye. it is Constant, Ceaseless in its Watching. it knows your deepest, darkest secrets and it delights in knowing. it enjoys your misery, it feeds on it.
It’s true I’m finding it hard to concentrate, but that’s only because I can’t sleep because they’re watching me. Those unseen eyes that hover everywhere and won’t let me rest. {...} Those eyes still haunt my dreams and follow me through the waking world, even here. Especially here.
THE SPIRAL
Xileh, enters through the windowthe fear of insanity, of your senses lying to you. of distortion and deceit. of patterns unmaking and rules bending, twisting, unraveling at the seams of reality.
THE SLAUGHTER
Butchery, sings a slaying songthe fear of senseless violence. of pain inflicted suddenly and without reason. of the terror of war. of violence systemic or random, wholly unexplainable.
THE FLESH
Viscera, bleeding bloodthe fear of being nothing beyond electrified meat, of being cut up and consumed. eaten. twists up human psyches in disturbing and unpredicatable ways, feeds mostly on prey and cattle.
My torch moved over the rest of the room until it fell upon the huge freezer. There were letters sprayed onto it, several inches high. It looked like this was what the kid had been doing. He’d been spraying the phrase ‘MEAT IS MEAT’ onto the door of the freezer, but the cops must have gotten him before he’s finished, so what was actually written upon the matt silver surface were the words ‘MEAT IS ME’.
And there, at the bottom, was another pile. One that dwarfed the truck outside. One that would have dwarfed a hundred trucks. Because I couldn’t actually see the bottom. For all I know, it could’ve gone down forever, an endless pillar of flesh.
But then it moved, and I realized in a second what it actually was I was looking at. Not a pit. A mouth.
THE STRANGER
Stranger, I do not know youthe fear of the uncanny, of things and people not quite right. of others masquerading as others. of the fake becoming real. of the real becoming fake. of there not being a distinction between the two in the first place
THE END
Demise, which awaits us allthe fear of dying. of the certain end of life. of the complete and permanent cessation of consciousness. of unconsciousness
You would have expected Death to smell of decay, of rotting flesh and maggot meat, but it did not. And the soldier knew what it was immediately. Even before his eyes adjusted to the dark and looked to the table. Before he saw the figure that sat there in a moth-eaten monk’s robe. There was no reason to assume that what he saw was Death, and not simply some forgotten corpse, but there was no doubt in the soldier’s mind when he gazed upon it that he saw his doom embodied.