honestsilasbirchtree

[honestsilasbirchtree]

I bought twelve hamsters! What do I do with them all???

Prove your loyalty! Open wiiiiiiiide!

[honestsilasbirchtree]

NEW FRIENDS OF CIPHERTOLOGY PROCEED DOWN THE HALL, WALLETS DEPOSITED ON LEFT, BOWTIES RECEIVED ON RIGHT, MARRIAGE CERTIFICATES AUTOMATICALLY TIE-DYED ON ENTRY-- ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY BROUGHT A HAMSTER, CHECK IN WITH ME!

[honestsilasbirchtree]

this is so blue velvet

[honestsilasbirchtree]

Made some fanart of the extremely talented @ikurko's Silas Birchtree.

[honestsilasbirchtree]

something something corpse possessed by a demon. i don't know, i think silas is a pretty swell guy

[honestsilasbirchtree]

No kidding! I work in advertising — if you need someone to hawk what you’re selling, I’m your guy! Only connections I’ve got are the important ones! Industry connections! Hey, if you need a contact in the radio biz, I can pull a few strings.

YOU SURE ARE MY GUY! Now we're cooking! Waffles on me, I know a great little place that I've got my eye on-- just on the other side of Gunderson and Gunderson's Paint and Ladder Store. You bring your strings, I'll bring the razor, and we'll call it a deal!

[honestsilasbirchtree]

Chick tracts! You ever think of getting into the print business, pal?

OHOHO! I like your moxie, kid! I actually have a little something in the works right now! And, funny thing, I just had a spot open up for somebody to lead the way in spreading my glorious word! Got any graphic design experience? Plenty of cash? People who might miss you? (I can take care of that last thing, but that'll be 100 bucks up front! You'll get a complimentary head tattoo!!!)

I'm thinking pamphlets, buttons, self-help books, fortune cookie slips, all your favorite forms of propaganda! We'll need a good-sized brick of a hymnal to apply to the thickest skulls, too-- I wonder if I can get Doc Nails or Screechy back on the horn?

[honestsilasbirchtree]

Hey Silas! What’s black and white and re(a)d all over?

Well, well, well! Hello, mystery admirer! You've reached Silas Birchtree, your soon-to-be Lord and Master for all eternity! A riddle? Don't mind if I do!

Oh! Oh! I know this one! Bruises! A public pool full of piranhas! That slice of cherry pie that's been in the back of the waffle house refrigerator since the war ended!!! Getting warm?

[honestsilasbirchtree]

June 15, 1952

The waffle house had been nameless for the entire eight years it had been in operation so far. Lizzie Dixon, 22, had been working there for three of those years. She could now begin preparing orders based on the sound of the cars pulling up and the tops of hats and hairdos that she could see through the blinds.

All of her lunchtime regulars were currently in, the dishwasher was out for a "smoke" again, and absolutely nothing was going to surprise her. She thought about dropping a milkshake glass for the hell of it.

"The back of that greasy kid's head looks like it could use some sparkle! Why don't you give it a hurl!"

Lizzie jumped at the sudden loud voice by her ear and dropped the glass, just missing her foot. The shards scattered. "Oh-! Oh no, no..." The dishwasher, finally back behind the counter, turned around at the sound. "Whoa, Lizzie, what happened?"

"Where have you been?" Lizzie snapped. "Don't just-- careful stepping through, oh, come on, get a broom or something, I have to take this gentleman's order--" She turned back to find herself face to face with a pale stranger in a suit and hat.

"Shucks, you missed!" he continued. "Better luck next time, huh?"

Lizzie allowed herself a smirk at that. "I might like that, but I like working here more, I'm afraid."

"Oh, you do?" said the stranger. His voice seemed strangely loud and shrill no matter what volume he was speaking at. "I see, got to comfort yourself somehow after your big audition flopped. Don't worry, that whole rodeo will fold a year from now anyway! BIG shooting malfunction! You're better off out of the, haha, line of fire! Trust me!"

Lizzie's eyes flicked over to the ad taking up most of the far wall at the end of counter--a flirtatious blonde cowgirl, SLUGGER COFFEE, 'Start Your Day Like a Shot!' She really hoped he was talking about cameras. "...I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Silas Birchtree, travelling salesman and so much more!" he doffed his hat. (For a moment, she heard some kind of buzzing.) She could see his eyes better now, wide and avid to a near painful looking degree, just like his smile. "Now, Lizzie, can I just say--"

"Hey!" A redheaded young man wearing a blazer in an unfortunate color took a seat at the bar. "Is this fella bothering you, Liz?"

"She hasn't been interested since you called her "Lizard" the first day of junior high, Chris!" the newcomer shot back. Heads all through the establishment were turning. "Take your comedy act somewhere else! I'd suggest the middle of the road, but if this one horse town ever gets anything resembling actual traffic, I'll eat that horse myself!"

Lizzie wanted to sink into the floor. Chris flushed red and balled up his hands. "Why don't you get bent, you creep! Who d'you think y--"

"Hey, ain't you supposed to be dead?" an old farmer at the other end of the counter called out. "We had a burial and everything, I saw." This set the gathering crowd murmuring.

Birchtree flashed a megawatt grin his way. "Normal human man, right here!" He thumped his chest hard. "Aren't you supposed to be cutting back on the drink, Ray? Then again, the doctor has bills to pay, too! Wanna bet you can help finance his new car?"

Ray's brow furrowed. "Say, how'd you know all that? What new car?"

"An excellent question! My unearthly knowledge comes from above!" Birchtree threw his arms wide, shouting to the whole restaurant. "An all-knowing entity of awesome power has chosen me to be his herald! He's seen your mistakes! He watches your dreams! He foresees the terrible way that you will die, yes, each and every one of you!" Now he was standing on the counter, with a sea of open-mouthed faces around him. "All of these secrets and more I will share with you rubes, if! You! Follow me outside!"

He stepped down from the counter and strode out the door, a throng following him out and down the street to Orchard Lake's central square. Lizzie let herself out from behind the counter to join them, still trailing broken glass underfoot.

"Hey, where are you going?" the dishwasher shouted after her. "Hey! Lizzie! What are you doing? Come back!"

[honestsilasbirchtree]

okay, so: re Silas Birchtree

I still want to do this thing, but I was questioning what format I was going to go with. I think I have settled on what I am going to do. No threads for Silas, he’s an ask blog with optional ability to join the cult and submit your own side content. Basically this will be an interactive fanfic with a pre-destined end (the shootout and fire). If that sounds interesting, feel free to come along for the ride!

[honestsilasbirchtree]

look at him goo

[honestsilasbirchtree]

Halfway done writing Silas's big introduction to Orchard Lake, and I think maybe I should just scrap the blog idea and write a damn fic. I have three named characters and a ton of ideas that probably won't involve other people, which defeats the point of an RP blog.

[honestsilasbirchtree]

Made in the Image of Bill

Closeups of the quality gets roasted (just like bills family) ->

[honestsilasbirchtree]

June 14, 1952

The moon was high over Orchard Lake, Kansas, and strangely big and yellow.

On the edge of the town's main graveyard, the still-freshly dug dirt at the foot of a hastily erected stone started to stir. It would shift, and then lie still. Furious pounding and weird curses could be heard.

The coffin lid threw a spray of soil as it exploded open from the ground. The body of Silas Birchtree, pronounced dead yesterday morning, staggered out into the moonlight with a hacking cough.

"Alright!" he wheezed, grinning ear to ear. "Lucky they didn't dig you a real deep hole, huh?!" He blinked his eyes, thumped his chest. "Gut acid in the right place, chest is full of butterflies, eyeballs still have their goo, now--!" He let out another painful cough, reaching up to feel his throat.

After another minute of coughing and prodding, a nickel flew out of Silas's mouth. He caught it in midair.

"Heads, I go, tails, I..." He glanced at the coin. "--STAY!" He looked down the road, at the darkened windows surrounding the small town square. His eyes seemed to match the full moon. His smile, if it was possible, got even wider.

"Sleep tight, Orchard Lake! I have BIG PLANS for you!"

He took one step toward the town and immediately got his knees tangled and a face full of gravel. "OW! Ahahahaha!! Forgot what a drag walking is!"

[honestsilasbirchtree]

About

(This blog is an experiment in finite RP that explores the Ciphertology storyline in "The Book of Bill". No threads, but asks/anons/other follower content are welcome as the main narrative progresses! Read my Rules and see (most) OOC asides and updates at @tesser-rp )

(Be advised, this blog will contain quite a lot of the following content: themes pertaining to cults and religious fanaticism, depictions of brainwashing and manipulation, some amount of violence and death, copious body horror and other kinds of horror -- but all within a PG-13 rating to the best of my ability.)

(Also, MASSIVE SPOILERS for Gravity Falls and other material, TBOB and its tie-in website. Read on at your own risk.)

ABOUT SILAS

(Silas Birchtree is a decently good-looking man of average height, with fair hair, conspicuously pale and cold skin, and unusually wide eyes. He smiles constantly and wears a suit and bowtie, and extremely shiny shoes. He smells strongly of formaldehyde and a faint buzzing sound is heard wherever he's standing.)

("Silas" is stuck chronologically in 1952. He will not know who the Pines family are or about anything plot-related that happened after that year. He knows about the prophecy and can see into the future, but it's an imprecise art.)

In life, Silas Birchtree was a failed, aimless snake-oil salesman drifting across shiny and desolate post-war America. (20% off the top-shelf cottonmouth, and two bottles of the ratsnake for $14.99 for a limited time only!) Early in 1952, while stopped in Orchard Lake, Kansas, he choked to death on a nickel and was buried quickly.

The next day, he was seen alive and... well??? And not only did he return from the dead with an entirely new and pretty obnoxious personality, but he also had something new to sell...

ABOUT CIPHERTOLOGY

Ciphertology was an apocalyptic cult that rose and fell within 1952 in the isolated and humble town of Orchard Lake BillVille, Kansas, which through the actions of the United States government no longer exists.

Ciphertologists were all about three things: throwing off the yokes of law, order, decency, humanity, and common sense; spreading "the Bad News" to whoever they could force to hear them out; and building, by order of their Lord and Master Silas Birchtree, a mysterious giant metal structure out in a field, that their leader called a "portal".

The cult ultimately met their demise around a year later, after a two week standoff with the Kansas state troopers and a helium explosion set off by a disgruntled old lady.

ABOUT BILL CIPHER

Silas introduced his followers to his "muse", an extradimensional entity of perfectly triangular form named Bill Cipher, who inspired madness whenever it spoke through its human host, and would frequently enter and take over the minds and bodies of dozens of the cultists at a time. (You've probably heard more about this unholy triangle fellow elsewhere.)

In truth, Cipher and "Silas Birchtree" were one and the same, Silas being nothing more than a husk for the beast to inhabit. It is fortunate that the creature's dark designs for our reality never came to pass.

(Bill will sometimes talk directly, instead of through Silas, under the tag #CIPHER SPEAKS. This version of him is canonical (or at least canon compatible), but is also chronologically locked in 1952.)

ARE YOU DEPRESSED? LONELY?

Then Ciphertology might be for you! That's right, you CAN, if you so choose, toss either yourself or your beloved roleplay character into this (possibly) metaphorical meat grinder of a triangle fanclub! Just follow, drop a line in the askbox, or contact @tesser-rp and we can, at next to no cost to you, let you sample some interesting perks, including:

A totally new and very dapper fashion sense! Mandatory bowties!

License to eat off your own fingers!

A rural 1950s Kansas town to run around in, shrieking all of Cipher's fun catchphrases to your heart's content! (Historical accuracy not guaranteed.)

Complimentary helium tanks!

Plenty of body modification options, starting with a shave and a cattle-brand!

The opportunity to marry into the Ciphertology family! Mass weddings are held every Friday at noon-- bring the kids! Bring the dog! Already married? Even better!

SEE YOU REAL SOON, AND REMEMBER--

(The bottom's been burnt off.)