#tsv 24

[siltslut]

my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥🔥 this strain’s called “the silt verses” it’ll have you zoinked out of your gourd 💯💯🦀

me: yeah. sure. i don’t feel shit.

one hour later: hey i think there are some fucked up wolves over there

nana glass: the door’s been sticking lately, give it a good push. lay the table. we’re almost there. if it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we can get you started on repainting the coracle. what do you think? we’ll have enough leftovers for tomorrow. would you like to say grace, mallory? you’re very quiet, girl. everything all right? it’s getting dark. damn, em, he knows he mustn’t be out this late. you’ll have to do his work for him, mallory. you’re old enough now - yes, it’s about time. unlock the cellar. take that boy by the halter and lead him down to the garden. make him ready for the angels to come. and see that he’s tethered properly, too. lose him, and i’ll make you chase him down yourself. what do you mean, you don’t want to? “a coward comes prepared with the soundest arguments. courageous souls need none at all.” and why not? if we want our god to hear us, this is the method. it’s the only method - it’s the way that’s always been. it isn’t a pleasant duty, it isn’t something we should take joy in, but it’s a part of life. the boy’s to be given tonight. and you’re the only one who’s to do it. do you think you’re above this, mallory?

[tsvwords]

When I came back to the faith, I told them I wanted to go by a different name. Very common, of course, amongst new initiates.

A little controversial for a child of the Parish, especially someone whose grandmother was Adelina Glass, but Mason was there to push it through, and I never cared if any of the elders gave me disapproving looks.

I didn’t want to be Mallory Glass any more.

Names can be daggers, they can become something you need to run from, and my name was a dagger when it came out of your mouth.

I think I also imagined, somehow…that if I became Carpenter and I stopped being Mallory Glass, I could shed who I was before, I could extricate myself from what I’d done before.

The face of the boy I left to die in my grandmother’s garden. I could leave you behind, Nana, where you belonged.

It didn’t work, of course. And now I’m making the same mistake all over again. New beginnings. New gods. A chance to become someone better.

And it isn’t helping me. None of it is helping me.

I understand that I’ve been given a chance, a chance to finally start moving forwards, but there’s so much life behind me now, and it’s weighing me down, I’m drowning in it.

I feel so hollow. Yet so heavy.

So maybe I was right after all. There’s no such thing as a second act. There’s only debris.

And I keep thinking that I must have lived too long.

— Chapter 24: And We'd Be Gone Without A Trace.

[hezekiahwakely]

Carpenter's VA deserves every award for her performance. Chapter 24 has ruined. Me.

[starsandwriting]

Baby (demonic) who cheered!!!!

[catwyk]

crab boy had it coming he shoulda known not to mess w carpenter's pancakes (original version below cut :p)

drew this partway through the 11hr s3 marathon during a flight when i was desperate for healthy happy interaction

[cherrywhite]

I keep thinking about Carpenter's final moments of the podcast and I cannot stop thinking how, despite everything, she was still choosing to move forward and live on. Her brother is dead. She just had to say goodbye to him for the final time. Her friends are fled from her, with no certainty if she will ever catch up to them (and it will haunt me, that she will never know that Hayward died. That he got the ending he wanted even if it might not have been the reunion Carpenter had hoped for them. And if she does suspect what ultimately happen to him, it will haunt me that she chooses to believe they both made it out despite the odds). She's all alone.

And she could find a nice spot and wait for her ending. Lie down and let the long grass take her. But she chooses to get back up. To dream of some sort of future, with cats perhaps, where she lives on. Gets a haircut. Raises a toast to her friends. She will choke on her Nana's song, "There'll be no more need for hurt, word or deed. For sorrow," she will choke on the words and forget the lines and brokenly laugh at the absurdity of it all in the midst of all that grief as she chooses to trudge on, aching and in pain.

"I'll see you back around here another time soon." she says.

[mongeese]

So addicted to the trope of characters being forced to replay their traumas over and over while things gradually descend into absurdity and chaos and horror I will never get enough of it

[lights-at-night]

ngl my first thought abt todays ep was omg the cannibalistic baby from the silt verses

[clonerightsagenda]

Oh that was a brilliant use of the in-episode credits, in the last few minutes Carpenter did the "these are the silt verses and these are our acolytes in the order of their appearance" and rattled everyone off ending with Harlan Guthrie and I went 'hey didn't he play the guy who knocked Faulkner out last episode' and then he showed up and knocked Carpenter out

[new-hyperfixation-every-month]

vigour of the young

(@thesiltverses)

[siltslut]

save me tsv 24 names can be daggers monologue

tsv 24 names can be daggers monologue save me

[tsvwords]

But you can’t actually be certain about tonight, can you?

You find it difficult to keep the facts straight in your head.

You can’t even be sure, as you stand in your nana’s kitchen again, that this was the worst night of your life, the most shameful night, the night that makes you coil your fists and wince as you remember it.

Perhaps it was the night after. When Em finally came back home - looking stoned or hungover, refusing to answer any of Nana’s questions about where he’d been - and as he sat and painted the coracle as punishment, you danced around him in the silt and you boasted to him about what you’d done while he was away.

You pretended you were proud to have participated, proud to have helped your Nana. You scornfully acted out the soft, desperate cries of the boy that you’d left tethered out by the water. 

You boldly bragged that you intended to carry out the next sacrifice yourself as well, as he’d been doing it for far too long and you were owed a proper turn.

And Em looked at you like…what was that look he gave you?

Because it wasn’t pride, like you were hoping for.

It was something else.

— Chapter 24: And We'd Be Gone Without A Trace.

[hezekiahwakely]

Was that a fucking Silt Verses reference

[fromthebunkers]

Worst groundhog day ever

[mintytea-exe]

carpenter feels guilty for the way she treated faulkner in season 1 ohhhhh I'll never be okay again

[eyesteeth]

where im at rn wip wise is i have 2 pieces that are almost done, 1 that has several more hours in the hole, and 2 that are just in the brain stage. one's a companion to the carp n faulk comic i did and one's an absolutely fucking massive idea titled "all dogs go to heaven" which i just know is gonna bust my wrist again if i attempt. but golly am i in the soup. i am never not in the soup