Urban Horror - Tumblr Posts
Alchemists (Chronicles of Darkness)
I’m a lot of things, but one of them is a science person. I’m driven to learn about the new and discover the unknown. All reality is one great big puzzle, and I get to see how the pieces fit together in new and exciting ways. So in fiction, I tend to have sympathy with academics, scientists, and explorers. I will die on my bed raving about how science wasn’t the problem in Jurassic Park. The problem was capitalism.
But alchemists? Alchemists in the Chronicles of Darkness scare me. Alchemists are the dark side of scientific progress, which transgresses and doesn’t care about the harm it causes. Alchemists are the western tradition’s deep connection with imperialism and its arrogance in disenfranchising other knowledge traditions. They are the “ends justify the means” people and the “it’s for your own good” people. They want knowledge, they want power (even if they won’t admit it to themselves), and they ultimately don’t care about anything that stops them from getting either.
Alchemists are mortals who tap into the secrets of Pyros, allowing them to learn Promethean’s Distillations, modify their bodies, and gain Dread Powers. Body modification? In a game crawling with body horror? Totally not going to backfire on you, but you do you. The catch is that most Alchemists get the barest trickle of Pyros and can’t stablize much of it at a time - unless they steal it from Prometheans. And those modifications? They need Vitrol to do that, so at best, they are delaying a Promethean’s progress toward becoming human for their own game. Most of the time, they just murder them.
If Promethean: the Created is a game that embraces humanity, its Alchemists represent the rejection of human nature. If you want to play a game where transhumanism leads to the loss of what makes humanity important, Alchemists are a great place to start.
Graveyard Gary’s been at this a long, long time. He considers himself a reanimator, in the “grand” tradition of Herbert West, while rather missing the point about West’s grizzly fate. In fact, Gary’s missed the point so completely that he didn’t even notice when his body died, but by that point, it was so laced with Spark of Life Distillations that it just kept moving. As a result, Gary’s lack of heartbeat and unblinking stare unnerve anyone who visits his cemetery, but other than the faint smell of formaldehyde and ozone, there is no decay. Gary wouldn’t even mind even if it was pointed out to him; this is the best he’s felt in years. Honestly. Mostly. Probably.
N0V4 thinks he’s big shit, with the corner office in his father’s company and a hacker alias, so he can pretend he’s on the worker’s side. He’s not untalented, but he’s a relentless taskmaster who isn’t half as bright as those who work for him. Unfortunately for every Promethean who comes near Toronto, the world of corporate ruthlessness trained him well for being an Alchemist. He’s mastered various Electrification and Luciferus Distillations, he even sees the electromagnetic spectrum’s invisible colours, but now the electricity is stalking him back. An electricity spirit has latched onto N0V4’s resonance, and it has no intention of letting its food source slow down his experiments.
Good intentions, hell, and all that. Annabel started her study of Alchemy after hearing rumours of the Created and hoped to help them. She’s even knowledgeable enough about Disquietism to help Prometheans learn the Transmutation. The problem is that she now inflicts Disquiet on those around her, and the temptation to use Weaponize to her advantage grows stronger daily.
I dream of a fiction work where unreal, urban horror and "found footage" like creatures just so common that nobody pays them much mind anymore, they just became a sort of nuisance in the same way as raccoons or opposums.
Like "ah dang, the skinwalker stole shit from my fridge again..."
Or even "The fucking mothman ran away carrying the neighbor's lampost again."