The Magnus Archives - MAG 171 - The Gardener

Episode Date: June 11, 2020

Case ########-11Considerations of the Flesh. Recorded by The Archivist, in Situ. Content warnings:- Major/graphic body horror- Character death- Vocalised suffering & screams/pain (SFX)- Dysmorphia- Anorexia- Toxic beauty standards- Unhealthy bodybuilding- Plastic surgery addiction- Body modification- Mortality / Existential dread- Physical disorders / Chronic illness- Paralysis- Self-harm / Suicidal ideation- Loud noises Thanks to this week's Patrons: M.A.B., Bri Raymond, Olivia Peachley, GameStressor, Lucy Hall, Brittany Guy, H.D, Elfy Ibenbob, Maryam Trabelsi, LainieBarbarian, Steven Chlebek, Robert Espy, Full Featuritis, Silphius, gaminette, Nic Duhamel, Thor, Chris Halliday, ArcticMetal, Bob Hundertmark, FXKTN, sarahmeh, Alexis Arendt, Mickey, Greg Meyer, tracey van haaften, Beccameriel, Victoriano Vello, Imogen, BooksAndCats, Churlington Beesecoat, John Albert, Victorious Prime, ELooking, Overflight, Matthew Taylor, Bremen J. Savage, Lydia Kats, Cher Silver, Quill & Scale Designs, Teresa Wu, Scorna Lott, Rikki D, Ren, harmonybat, Cole Weber, andrew, GreyT, Tomas Nieboer, Rob Beckmann, Katie, Shaz, howdoyouwrite, Zoë Mortensen, Monsters' Advocate, Enzy  If you'd like to join them visit www.patreon.com/rustyquillEdited this week by Nico Vettese, Elizabeth Moffatt, Brock Winstead & Alexander J Newall.Written by Jonathan Sims and directed by Alexander J Newall.Produced by Lowri Ann DaviesPerformances:- "Martin Blackwood" - Alexander J. Newall - "The Archivist" - Jonathan Sims - "Jared Hopworth" - Alexander J. NewallSound effects this week by julius_galla, InspectorJ, Aurelon, davebassguy, Andy_Gardner, carlito62, minituffy, silversatyr, kentspublicdomain, SpliceSound, scottemoil, qubodup, Archeos, milnersouza, WavJunction.com, Fabrizio84, gmni, Reitanna, 000600, Motion_S, WilliamJMeyer, stomachache, indirect, bolkmar, FractalStudios, conleec, SilentStrikeZ, milnersouza, Iceofdoom, tosha73, EverHeat, JoelAudio, EricSoundsmiede, jeremy123, PereBarry, MaxDemianAGL, MisterLockbridge12, aabbccddee123 & previously credited artists via freesound.org.Check out our merchandise at https://www.redbubble.com/people/rustyquill/collections/708982-the-magnus-archives-s1You can subscribe to this podcast using your podcast software of choice, or by visiting www.rustyquill.com/subscribePlease rate and review on your software of choice, it really helps us to spread the podcast to new listeners, so share the fear.Join our community:WEBSITE: rustyquill.comFACEBOOK: facebook.com/therustyquillTWITTER: @therustyquillREDDIT: reddit.com/r/RustyQuillEMAIL: [e-mail] Magnus Archives is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill Ltd. and... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This is the first radio ad you can smell. The new Cinnabon Pull-Apart only at Wendy's. It's ooey, gooey, and just five bucks with a small coffee all day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. As women, our life stages come with unique risk factors, like high blood pressure developed during pregnancy, which can put us two times more at risk of heart disease or stroke. Know your risks. Visit heartandstroke.ca.

Rusty Quill Presents The Magnus Archives Episode 171 The Gardener Don't touch anything. Wasn't planning to. Are they still alive? More or less. They're certainly still aware. But they're just the compost.

The pot from which the trees grow. I didn't think there were that many bones in a human body. Normally there aren't. It takes a skilled gardener to get them to grow like this. The curling, cascading intricacies of collagen and marrow. It takes devotion. John. Sorry.

You sound like you think they're beautiful. Don't you? Is he here? Up ahead. Look at this. It's like you're trying to grow ugly. That won't do. You're better than that. Not to worry friend, know what I'm done.

Just a bit of pruning will set you right. No need to fuss. This will sort you right out. Soon you'll be good as new. Better even. You just need to reach down inside and really feel that fear. Let it guide how you grow. You'll feel it in your... bones. Yes. Bones.

Jared Hopworth. Sure. Why not? If you're still clinging so hard to names. You know why I'm here? I can guess. Took a bit to figure out which rib was aching. But when I did... well, obvious really, I surely want it back. It's too late for that now.

Not really, but whatever. Oh, and who's this? Your boyfriend? Erm, yes, actually. Oh. Hm. Your boyfriend? Yes, actually. So is there any way this doesn't end in me dead? I'm guessing that's on the docket if you're here.

Unless you're just here to smell the flowers. No. I can't let you carry on like this. What happened, Jared? I thought you only worked on the willing. What? Says who? Oh, the gym. I mean, yeah.

They wanted to change, but they were still scared. First of all, I'd do to them. Then what would happen if the world couldn't handle their beautiful new bodies. Not like I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart. Hearts. Anyway, willing, unwilling. Don't work like that anymore, does it? You made sure of that. That's not fair. And what? I... I... Besides, done really mad now, does it? No. No, it doesn't. Okay. Right. So we're doing this or what? I reckon I can get a few good hits in before I go down. Leave you a little summit to remember me by.

No you won't. Nah, maybe not. But you gotta try, haven't you? Please don't. You've already made your mark. You've already made your mark. Fine. Consider it a favour. But I want something in return.

Before he does it. Um, alright. Let's hear it. You still do that talky thing. You know, drink up all the fear and spit it back out. Sort of, yes. Right.

Well, I'd like to hear about my garden. Okay. Look, if this is some kind of trick, it isn't. Don't fret yourself, little man. Just thought it might be nice, is all. Cultivation notes for Fortissium reese, commonly known as the gristle bloom orchid. A popular feature in any mortal garden,

the striking petals that spring from the stems of the gristle bloom are certainly dramatic. Stretched and straining as they are in a kaleidoscope of reds and pinks and browns around the pale cream of bony stalk. While proper conditions for development can be tricky to get precisely right, caution should be exercised as, should an ideal environment be created, this plant can grow and grow and grow. The soil should be prepared first, a rich and earthy cocktail of insecurity and self-hatred that allows the roots to twist and contort freely. The temperature should be kept the steady humid warmth of air conditioners struggling to cope with the perspiration of a dozen bodies

pushing themselves too hard while the lights must be kept at a harsh fluorescent glare counterintuitively growth is most effective when the orchid is suffering from aggressive dehydration and it is vitally important that the air roots be rarely praised, and only for the flowers' appearance and growth. Above all, the deepest fear must be laced throughout what the gristle-bloom orchid is fed, that they're not enough, that their inadequacies are embedded all the way into their flesh, and that they must always and forever be more. This unspoken terror can be viewed in the intricate lattices that marble the gory petals of a well-cared-for gristle bloom as it expands and swells and grows to its full and bulbous potential. Never let it believe itself good enough, and continue always to ensure the body that it is certain it must

attain is that impossible distended mess to which it will endlessly contort itself until it dominates your garden in its sheer, impossible, beautiful mass. Even if there were mirrors in this place, Rhys could not possibly recognise himself. Not because anything that might once have registered as a human body has long since blossomed into sinewy flowers and muscles and burst skin. But because, were he to see himself, the only image in his mind would be the him he was so afraid to be. And the gristle-bloom orchid grows. The agonies of this gore-streaked orchid are pointedly exquisite, as it willingly and keenly pushes its physical form past any recognisable point of pain and shuddering anxiety,

Warm past any recognisable point of pain and shuddering anxiety, until it towers over your garden, dripping blood and bitter sweat. Cultivation Notes for Grisillium Patricia, commonly known as the Bone rose. While the gristle bloom orchid may be the most eye-catching of the plants that you will find in the mortal garden, the bone rose is perhaps the most delicate. Thin and brittle, it is constantly on the verge of collapsing under its own weight, even as its ossified stems reach and twist and stretch in a desperate attempt for closeness. The soil for the bone rose must be thoroughly rotten, a mulch of corrupted romanticism turned toxic and watered by an uncertain desire that curls back upon the roots and feeds into it a single, constant, pulsing thought,

an instinct that fuels every cell within the rose. To be wanted, you must be less. The temperature should be kept cold for optimal development. The coldness of rejection, of hostile and pitying glances cast over a hated body, a coldness that creeps through the bones and lashes the vicious iciness to the flower's core. Light should be unrelenting, allowing every flaw and mark and sag to be stared at and warped and ogled. With this preparation, the bone rose will conceive a grotesque horror of its own flesh, of the skin and fats and all that makes a body present. It will tear and starve and leak until there is naught but bones, the hungry bones so desperate to be touched, to be held, to be wanted.

Patricia is beautiful at last, so sharp and narrow and hard. Her angles and creamy white entirety is the centre of the garden for all to admire. But she strains and shakes and fears the wind that pushes and bends the brittle stiffness of the bones. It takes every drop of her strength to keep herself aloft, to not collapse in a heap of splintered femur and broken rib. There is no moment of her new existence that is not a shuddering, terrified effort. She is beautiful, and she cannot allow herself to lose that at any cost. She cannot shatter into fleshly ugliness again. The bone rose, properly cultivated, will be a fearful and wonderful centrepiece for a carefully tended mortal garden.

Cultivation Notes for Sicarium Leopold, commonly known as the cutaway tulip. At the edges of the mortal garden, if one is lucky, one may find the rare cutaway tulip, the pride of any diligent gardener. While easy to grow to a small size, with some casually applied insecurities, to create a true masterpiece of carved and peeled and sculpted flesh requires a lengthy and involved cultivation. Ensuring a properly grotesque blossom, an elegant and

graceful flowering, is more in the pruning than in the preparation. The soil can be anything mulched in hostility to self-worth, and the light and temperature must simply be kept at a level to allow the appropriate growth of an obsession. with the changing and hacking of itself, that from stem to root to petal it cuts and breaks and sticks itself into ever new configurations and shapes, each a new summit of repulsive symmetry and stomach-churning perfection, a perfection sought in the blade and the shears of the gardener, or the edge wielded by its own wildly waving roots, eagerly digging into a knotted and knitted form and pulling itself apart. The cutaway tulip's growth is less reliant than other blooms on the moment-to-moment terror of themselves, the sharp and pointed fear of a form you are appalled to look upon. themselves the sharp and pointed fear of a form you're appalled to look upon instead what must be grown and fed and watered is the lingering nagging dread of falling short of what could be

and the final glorious culmination that a body may someday achieve the ever-retreating perfections that sit always on the tip of a knife. But also, growing with the flower, must be that other dread, not of perfection to be hunted, but of decay to be fled. The wrinkled, greying, translucent marks of encroaching mortality, a body that seeks to turn all that looks like you into a mouldering parody, and the fearful slicing and desperate stabbing that is no longer to seek the golden promise of an eternal beauty, but a tearful attempt to rewind a spring

that ticks itself ever looser with every snap of the clock face. Leopold is aware of what he has become, of the bleeding, twitching caricature of a human body he inhabits, the ribbons of himself that are pruned and broken and woven into dazzling petals. But as much as he is scared to his roots of the next form the shears will chop him into, even more he fears the spreading stagnation that moves through his stem like rot, the start of a decline that can only be postponed by the mutilating torments of his gardener. He would cry, but he has no idea where his tear ducts

are anymore. While initially a very intensive and time-consuming flower to grow, a well-cared-for cutaway tulip can stand as a torn and wretched testament to the gardener's skill, especially if successfully brought to the point where it begins to operate and dissect itself. Cultivation notes for Supramium Maeve, commonly known as the lily of the damned while a somewhat difficult flower to acquire the seeds for the actual growing of a lily of the damned is a task that requires remarkably little input from the gardener although if it is to be a strong feature of the mortal garden it must be regularly pulled up into fresh air. Any soil works for a lily of the damned, though some contend a rough and damp texture causes them to blossom faster.

The important aspect to bear in mind is to never allow the lily to forget its physical existence. Temperatures can be hot or cold as long as it is uncomfortable, and light levels need only be high if the preoccupation with its body's presence has a visual component. Most importantly, the absence of any transcendence or death should always be emphasised when watering or pruning. Spirituality, afterlife, transhumanism, religion, all must be roundly dismissed or mocked, at all times with the clear conclusion that the meat from which the lily blooms is the only form of being it will ever enjoy. The flowers that spring from a lily of the damned are less predictable than those of other denizens of the mortal garden, being haphazard black growths of calcified fluid and sinuous dangling nerves.

They can grow very fast, but are in no danger of dominating any arrangement, as they will by nature attempt to retreat beneath the soil, hiding the painful existence that horrifies them so from any who might be watching, including themselves. Periodically, if you wish to display and grow your lily to its best advantage, you must seize whatever part of it remains above ground, and pull, bringing it up into the open air. Use as much force as you have available without worry of dislodging it entirely. The lily's roots go deep, and can withstand almost any attempt to dislodge them. This is Maeve's nightmare.

There is no other word for it. To be trapped, unmoving within the body that has betrayed her so often. Feeling every sensation as it grows and warps and sprouts. Never knowing what new mutation it will visit on her next. She is unable to even hide. There is no promise of the peaceful sleep of the innocent dead, not the dream of a digital escape from the hell her body has become. She is here, and she is trapped in the same soft prism of skin

she has always so despised while it will never be a focus piece for a mortal garden the lily of the damned is a popular choice among experimental gardeners as its almost indestructible nature allows them the opportunity to exercise a great deal of creativity in its cultivation. The mortal garden grows and twists and screams and bleeds. It is loved by the hands that tend it, but that love sows only misery and fear. It is the worst place that has ever been beautiful.

And it should not exist. Cheers for that. Don't. John, are you alright? Yeah, I'm... sorry. John, are you alright? Yeah, I'm... Sorry. No, it's alright. Is it really that bad, seeing what I've done here?

Or is it maybe that deep down you think it's as beautiful as I do? Shut up! It's a shame. Who's going to look after the garden when I'm gone? There are a few real pretty ones. Who knows, maybe they'll uproot and start landscaping themselves. That'd be nice. Then again, maybe it'll just grow wild. I don't care. No? You don't care. No.

You don't, do you? I can't. There's too many. I can't save everyone. I can't save anyone. If you say so. So, I guess that just leaves revenge then, doesn't it? Can't say I blame you. That's all life is really, isn't it? Just people using each other up.

Spare me the crude philosophy. Grow well, my darlings. Grow well my darlings, grow well. Feel it. Feel all the terror and despair as your garden grows. Let it flow through you and blossom. Just people fusing each other up. Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this thing and drink your fin. John? I'm here. Are you okay? I'm...

great. You? I really thought this one would be messier. What do you mean? Well, I mean, he's a flesh... thing, right? I thought he'd be all meat and blood and gore and all that. Apparently not. He didn't even put up a fight. No. So what now? Carry on, I guess. Yeah. John. Hmm?

I need to ask you something. Okay. I meant to ask. After the fire, actually, but, well, then there was the house and everything, and it just sort of... What is it, Martin? Why didn't we go after the landlord guy? In the tenement? Arthur Nolan? Yeah. He's still there, right?

After Jude, the fires, I didn't want to put you through anymore. Don't do that. What? Don't use me as an excuse. I'm not. I just... It didn't seem worth it. I didn't hate him like I hated her. He never hurt me. But all the people inside... Killing Nolan wouldn't have made it stop. It would just leave it unsupervised. John, we are doing good, right? Making things better? I don't know if that was ever an option. The Magnus Archives is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill

and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International License. Today's episode was written by Jonathan Sims, produced by Laurie-Anne Davis, and directed by Alexander J. Newell. It featured Alexander J. Newell as Martin Blackwood and Jared Hopworth, and Jonathan Sims as the Archivist. To subscribe, buy merchandise, or join our Patreon, visit RustyQuill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us at TheRustyQuill, visit us on Facebook, or email us via mail at RustyQuill.com. Thanks for listening. Thank you. FXKTN, Sarah Mare, Alexis Arendt, Mickey, Greg Mayer, Tracy Van Haften, Becca Marielle, Victoriano Velo, Imogen, Books and Cats,

Chirlington Beescoat, John Albert, Victorious Prime, E. Looking, Overflight, Matthew Taylor, Bremen J. Savage, Lydia Katz, Cher Silver, Quill and Scale Designs, Teresa Wu, Scorner Lott, Ricky D, Ren, Thank you all. We really appreciate your support. If you'd like to join them, go to www.patreon.com forward slash Rusty Quill and take a look at our rewards. Hello, it's Kareem, the voice of Simon Fairchard from the Magnus Archives, letting you know about our sponsor, Audible. For fans of heart-racing, bone-chilling, and mind-bending stories, Audible. For fans of heart racing, bone chilling, and mind bending stories, Audible has everything you need. Audible is the leader in audiobooks, so you'll always find the best and freshest selection of mysteries and thrillers to choose from.

Sometimes you just want to get lost in a classic whodunit, and sometimes you want to get wrapped up in a twisted new mystery, where the tension is high, and you just can't stop listening until you find out what happens next. Audible can take you places only you can imagine stop listening until you find out what happens next. Audible can take you places only you can imagine and whenever you want. On a run, doing errands, commuting or just relaxing at home. And it's not just audiobooks.

Audible also gives you binge-worthy podcasts and exclusive originals with thousands of included titles you can listen to all you want. And more get added every week. So, if you're into secrets and suspense or you want to explore any other genre, remember there's more to imagine when you listen on Audible. Your first audiobook is absolutely free when you sign up for a free 30-day trial at audible.ca. This is the first radio ad you can smell. The new Cinnabon pull apart only at Wendy's. It's ooey gooey and just five bucks with a small coffee all day long. Taxes extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th.

Terms and conditions apply.