The Magnus Archives - MAG 181 - Ignorance

Episode Date: October 1, 2020

Case ########-21Preparation and recuperation.Audio recorded by the Archivist, in situ.Content warnings:DissociationMemory loss / Mental deteriorationSchadenfreude / Vicarious embarrassmentMentions of: suicide, alcohol, excessive drinkingThanks to this week's Patrons: L Lunovick, Clay Cameron, Krisp Dreemurr, Robert Hubert, Zoe Dapore, Lindy McLosin' It, Moriah Day, Shay Topaz, Ida Karoliussen, Patrick Lusk, Frood, Bella Choy, Daniela, Johnathan, Lauren Smithwick, Gill, Taro, Desiree Certain, Maggie Benson, Mundetiam, Ruth Harris, Abel Strictly, Neeley, Chiara Di Filippo, Beau, Molly Bushby-Medlen, Bee Murray, Van Bedard, Harrison Regan, space-gh0sts, M Whalen, seven goblins in a trench coat, escherzo, Kiah Benedict, Destiny Rivers, Dani Urbina, lare Nick Gilbert, pj bradley, cinderrain, Eliot Bonetto, Amanda Boltz, Monica, Rhys Whittemore, levee!, Cliffe, Sarah Bensch, Ellen Mcloughlin, Sirka, Leah, Allie, and JekaraIf you'd like to join them visit www.patreon.com/rustyquillEdited this week by Nico Vettese, Elizabeth Moffatt, Brock Winstead & Alexander J NewallWritten by Jonathan Sims and directed by Alexander J NewallProduced by Lowri Ann DaviesPerformances:- "Martin Blackwood" - Alexander J. Newall- "The Archivist" - Jonathan Sims  - "Annabelle Cane" - Chioma Nwalioba- "Mikaele Salesa" - Ray Chong NeeSound effects this week by koraps, VithorMoraes, Timmeh515, j1987, vckhaze, klankbeeld, Omar Alvarado, kyles, o_ciz, MAJ061785, Iamgiorgio, mlsulli, 190042, davethetech , megashroom, shall555, Handfan, 13GPanska_Gorbusinova_Anna, gpag1, AlfredHitch, Clearwavsound, mrh4hn, oddmonolithsound, ultradust, sethlind , altfuture, dynamique, sacredmatt, straget, huskpodcast.com, sturmankin, 3bagbrew, & previously credited artists via freesound.orgAdditional sound effects from https://www.zapsplat.com Music - "Sechs Deutsche Lieder - Zwiegesang" by Louis Spohr, performed by Alavedra, McColl, Levine and provided under a Attribution-ShareAlike licence https://freemusicarchive.org/music/Alavedra_McColl_Levine/Voice_Clarinet_Fortepiano/Montserrat_Alavedra_William_McColl_Joseph_Levine_-_Voice_Clarinet_Fortepiano_-_05_-_Spohr_-_Sechs_Deutsche_Lieder_-_Zwiegesang- "9th Symphony, Finale" by Beethoven, available in the Youtube Audio Library https://www.youtube.com/audiolibrary_download?vid=e7853bc4b28058df 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... 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 for the small coffee, all day long. Tax is extra at participating Wendy's until May 5th. Terms and conditions apply. Rusty Quill Presents The Magnus Archives Episode 181 Ignorance ¶¶ Hmm. Interesting.

Ah, of course. Come in. Come in. Mr. Selesa? Micaele, please, come in. Did you sleep well? Have you had something to eat? Annabelle said she's shown you the pantry. I, uh, we slept. I don't know. How long's it been? About 71 hours by my clock. How are you feeling?

Disorientated. It's like, um, like I've lost my sight, or, uh... You have, haven't you? Annabelle tells me you work for the Eye. I wouldn't exactly say I work for it. I mean, you say that, but when you stop to think about it, it was literally our employer, John, so... I suppose. I like this one. Come on, sit down, have a drink.

You sure? What time is it? I can actually ask that question here. You can indeed. And the sun's high, so... Good eye. Martin, was it? Yes.

Well, Martin, it's about ten in the morning, more or less. And you're drinking? Of course. Even in my little bubble of peace, I find drinking after dark leads to some other morbid thoughts. Right. What is this place? I just told you. It's my little bubble. My silver lining on an otherwise cloudy day.

That's not... Now tell me, do you know why there's a tape recorder here? I noticed it just now, but I don't believe I actually own one. Not really. They sort of just follow us round? Hmm. Interesting. Did you carry it in? Things shouldn't be able to manifest in here like that. You had one in your bag, I think, Martin. Did you drop it here?

I don't think so. Very well. In that case, we shall leave it to be. It's hardly valuable, and it's probably best not to upset whatever it might be involved with. Besides, I have no secrets to hide. So you wouldn't mind answering a few questions? I'm an open book. In my experience, open books can actually be pretty dangerous. I do like this one.

Now you mention it. You actually remind me of Jürgen a bit. In his younger days, of course. You sure you won't have a drink? We definitely had some tea around here somewhere. I already had some, thank you. Some of us know how to be polite guests. I don't intend to accept anything offered by Annabelle Kane.

Oh, you know Annabelle. Sort of. You do know she's part of the Web. No. I assumed the thread holding her head together was due to a childhood knitting accident. Of course I know she's with the Web. And that doesn't bother you? Not especially.

And even if it did, what good would it do? So what's the deal with you two anyway? It's an odd situation, but not a complicated one. Shortly after I decided to stay here, she arrived, wandered in from the chaos out there, and told me she was going to stay with me. I didn't get this far by pitting myself against the web, so I welcomed her in. And?

And sometimes she cooks. She cooks? I don't know what you want me to say. It's a big house, and I don't see her much. Can't even say which corner she's made her nest in. Whatever she's doing, all I can do is hope it doesn't wreck my little oasis. And if it does, then I hope that by keeping her in good graces, she'll at least do me the courtesy of killing me first. Anyway, let us talk of happier things, or perhaps just take a moment to

enjoy not being out there. You are, of course, welcome to stay as long as you like. That's very generous. What is this place? How did you find it? I didn't find anything. I made it. Tell me what happened. No. What?

The look on your face. Look, he's so confused. Martin! Sorry, sorry. You did look kind of funny. It was like you were flunking an exam or something. Yes, exactly. Your powers won't work here, Jonathan. Seems head archivist of the Magnus Institute London that I can't see this place.

So what now? Ah, no need for the suspicion. I'm not going to hurt you. You're quite safe. I'll tell you soon enough. Like I said, I have no secrets, but it will be in my own time. Right. You know, Gertrude once used that little trick to ask if I was trying to sell her a forgery. Admittedly, I was, so I don't hold a grudge. But I didn't much care for the experience. Anyway, for now, just relax and no doubt I'll get there eventually. I haven't had anyone to talk to properly in months. Well, what about Annabelle? She keeps mostly to herself.

And when she does talk, it's usually more of the sinister monologue variety or cryptically telling me I've got guests. Uh, yeah, that sounds familiar. I'm trying to be less cryptic. I know, I know. So what's it like out there? I assume the Archivist must be a rather powerful position since you seem to be travelling through it pretty freely. It's, uh...

Uh... Uh... Um... John? Sorry, I just, uh... Huh. It's bad. Really bad. It's all carved up between the powers, and everyone has just been sort of scooped up and chucked into their deepest fears. It's just nightmare after nightmare after nightmare. Why are you smiling?

I'm sorry. You're quite right. It's inappropriate. It's simply... I've spent the last decade preparing for this to happen. Not just something like this, but almost exactly this situation. There was every chance, in fact, the great likelihood that I was wasting my time and throwing away years of my life on a ridiculous precaution. But I was right. I was right. And now here I am, safe, warm and comfortable, while out there the whole world screams. I don't mean to sound as if I'm happy that people are suffering. Good, because it does sound a bit like that.

Then I apologise. I'm just not sure I can fully communicate the sense of vindication that I feel all those long nights I spent wondering if I was paranoid or overreacting. But no, I am here and I am safe. I mean, I guess that makes sense. So what have you do? Where are you going? You seem to be traveling with some purpose. Did Annabelle not tell you that? She said you were travelling to the tower, the Panopticon, she called it. Whatever that might be.

She didn't say what for. Nothing that might cause me trouble, I hope. We're going to try and end this. Turn the world back. Martin. What? Okay, maybe he can help. We could use some support.

And it's not like he wants the world to stay like this either. You are right. To a point. I would welcome a return to the real world. To be the only man to weather the greatest disaster in history of reality utterly unharmed. What an achievement. That would be quite the boast. But alas, no. I can't help you. What? Why not? I have nothing to offer. Well, except perhaps some basic provisions. I have food,

drink, a few luxuries. But none of that would help you out there. And I'm certainly not going to follow you. No, I think the best thing I can do is to welcome you to stay in my sanctuary as long as you wish. Oh, well, thank you. I think we just might. John? I can't use my powers here. I can't protect us. Protect us from what? It's going to be difficult to relax with a spider lurking around. It gets easier with practice. All right, I guess we can stay. Just for a bit. Excellent!

I haven't had guests since the world ended. Lovely. Oh, saying that, I suppose there was that insect thing that stumbled in here a month or so back. An insect thing? Some creature of the crawling rot. Anyway, it didn't actually make it into the house before Annabelle managed to get rid of it. So I refuse to count it as a guest. Suppose that makes sense.

Of course. I can't actually stop things crossing the border into my hideaway, as you both discovered. Another reason I'm content to leave Annabelle to whatever schemes she might be weaving. How big is your safe zone? Is it always the same size? How did this happen? Look at him. Not three days without his master spooning knowledge into his head and he can't bear it. I, for ignorance, was meant to be pleased. For what it's worth, I'd also quite like to know how all this happened. Fine. I'll tell you how it happened. But you must sit quietly while I tell it. Don't worry. I have had lots of practice.

And you? He'll behave. My story is not a long one. Not the parts that you care about, at least. The powers I first learned about from Jürgen Leitner. You're familiar with him? Then I don't need to explain further. When I say I was one of his assistants,

you know exactly the kind of education that would be. Terrifying, fascinating, misguided. The man was a genius and an idiot. It didn't take me long to see what he was blind to his whole life, that trying to control the fears was a good way to get yourself killed or worse. I left long before he got what was coming to him and tried to forget what I knew. I lived my life and I lived it well. Successful, wealthy, and a little bit feared. Smuggler to the rich and famous. There wasn't an art dealer or curator out there who didn't pretend not to know me. But the trouble is, once you've seen backstage, it's hard to believe in the show anymore. You understand, I'm sure. You can never quite

shake off the desire to have a peek, to see what's waiting in the wings. When I first stumbled across one of the cursed objects, I recognized what it was immediately. I recognized what it was immediately. It took the form of a leather pouch filled with 1888 Morgan silver dollars. It was aligned to the slaughter and, well, let us call it blood money and talk no more of the grisly details. Selling them, well, it went very badly for the buyer, but not for me. I walked away unharmed

and with a healthy profit and counted myself lucky. And then it happened again. This time it was a painting, a drab English pastoral that pulled you into the lonely. Again, I made a lot of money and remained untouched. It's the sort of thing to set a man thinking about his life.

You understand? I began to think hard about the world, about my place within it, and about fear, about the figure of the merchant, the trader who deals in strange and dangerous goods, how it can be found in so many myths and fables, dealing in second-hand nightmares, and how rarely the merchant themself is ever punished in those stories. I would love to pretend that it was out of self-preservation that I committed to my new trade, but that would be mostly a lie. To tell you the truth, I got a real kick out of playing my role, to think of myself as a purveyor of curses, walking softly through the most dangerous edges of reality so that the rich and arrogant could buy their own

doom. Sometimes people would come to me for solutions, protections, or talismans to ward off the attention they had already called down on themselves. I sometimes did what I could to help, but I had to be careful. I could never afford to forget who I actually was working for. And do you know what? I managed to walk that tightrope for decades without falling. You know, I think there were times when I was perhaps skirting close to the stranger.

But I kept my name prominent, and well... I'm not exactly a small personality. Anonymity just wouldn't have suited me. But the years, they were on you. And as I talked to more and more people But the years, they were on you. And as I talked to more and more people versed in that secret world, more acolytes and would-be cultists about rituals and destinies, I began to come to a conclusion. As the number of people in the world grew and the amount of fear grew with it, I began to become convinced that it was

only a matter of time before one of them succeeded. Before the world was transformed into...well, you'd know better than me. So I began to plan for my retirement. I spent most of my fortune preparing, some on supplies, but mostly hunting down on artifacts that I hoped might give me some protection. One I had sold right at the start of my career, an old broken camera. One that through some quirk had the ability to hide you from the powers. It was in the possession of another scared old man, one who had long been running from his own supernatural debts. I believe it operates as a sort of battery, charging itself on all the quiet worries that come from living in hiding. And then when the sanctuary collapses, all that fear flows out at once. No doubt if my oasis breaks before I die,

the eye will get quite the feast from me. But in this new world, I would hope it has other things to keep itself busy. Anyway, it took a lot of resources to find it again, and even more to retrieve it. Staging my death was a comparative afterthought. In some ways, I just... just a happy accident. And so I waited and lived out my days in comfort. For the longest time I thought that well maybe I'd simply entered normal retirement really dramatically but then

well I was right. I was right. Both about the world and about the camera. It hid me from the eye, which in the new order of reality, also protects where I am from the hellscape all around us. And when I realized that the power moves with the camera, well, let's just say I loaded up a truckload of supplies and went on some journeys of my own before I found this place. No reason to not live the apocalypse in style. In the end, I find myself quite happy. I have supplies for a good few years and then I I find myself quite happy. I have supplies for a good few years, and then I plan to take my own life. I think perhaps that's the greatest blessing the camera can bestow.

I can die here. Escape this place. Not yet, of course. Maybe the wine will do me in before I have to take matters into my own hands. But still, it remains a comfort. Anyway, no more stories, I think. Let us relax and talk and drink and not worry about who might be listening. You sure we can't stay longer? Yes, I've been... These last few days I've been getting weaker.

Dizzy spells, vagueness, you've seen it. Being cut off from the eye, it's not good for me. Yeah, but if you're that connected, that dependent, what happens if we actually, you know, do manage to... We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I just need us to be moving on. All packed? Oh, finally showing your face?

I'm sure I don't know what you mean. All week you scuttle around with food and drinks and all that other stuff, whatever we need, and just when we need it. But if we actually try to talk to you, you're gone. I'm very busy. Martin, don't bother. We're not going to get any answers out of her. You're joking, right? She's been lurking at the edges of this whole thing since the beginning, and now we can finally actually talk to her and what you're just gonna pass you don't have any questions nothing at all john john oh yes sorry look it's no accident we finally meet face to face in the one place i can't get any answers out of her i'm sure i don't know what you mean. Why are you here? Hmm? What's your game? Perhaps I just value my

privacy. Fine, fine. Why did you call me before? Perhaps I thought you could use a friendly voice. Friendly? You told me John didn't need me. Objectively true. And more importantly, perhaps I thought you might need a little bit of righteous indignation to help you power through the next steps. I don't like being manipulated. Then we probably aren't going to be friends. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. The call was clumsy. There are so many things to keep track of at the moment

I must confess It did lack my usual Nuance And Perhaps you're now just trying to humanise yourself So we underestimate your next move Perhaps So that's it then We're just going to leave her here Yes your next move. Perhaps.

So that's it then? We're just going to leave her here? Yes. We could make her tell us. No, we couldn't. I don't have my powers and if it came to a physical fight I really don't rate our chances. Hey, I can handle myself.

But can you handle me? I don't like you. I know. Fine, fine. Come on, John. They all aren't. So, what? We're leaving.

Don't worry, Martin. We'll meet again. Hopefully when you're feeling a little bit more open-minded. I wouldn't count on it. I would. That's the trouble with old houses, I suppose. Full of spiders. You boys better take care of yourself. I'm sure we'll see each other again very soon. Here, why don't I show you are off then. Yes.

Thank you for all your hospitality. You are sure you won't stay here a little longer? You're more than welcome. No, I... I've got to leave what he said such a shame

and you are sure I can't give you a little something for the road food wine no thank you nice things they tend not to stay nice out there true enough well best of luck I suppose Nice things, they tend not to stay nice, are there? True enough.

Well, best of luck, I suppose. And if in the end you can't save the world, you know where I am. Actually, he doesn't. Of course. What a shame. Well, then I guess it really is goodbye. Travel well. Don't be strangers. Yeah, come on John, let's go. What? Oh, yes, right, right. Yes. Feeling better?

Um, yeah. I'm afraid I am. All right. I'm sorry. It would have been nice to stay. Yeah. I'd almost forgotten what it was like, you know? A bit of peace.

I mean, you could have... Don't say it, John. You know I never would. I can't just forget about all the people out here. Besides, I'd rather be trapped in a post-apocalyptic wasteland with you than spend one more moment in paradise with her. That might just be the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Yeah, yeah.

Come on. We've got a job to do. I suppose we do. Pity. What? It's, er... It's going away. That peace. The safety.

The memory of ignorance. That's... Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Do you remember any of it? What Sleiza said, Annabelle? Some, I think. It's, uh... Do you mind filling me in? Wait, you need me to tell you something for once? I guess so. It's, uh... It's gone. Like a dream. What was it like?

Nice. It was... Yeah, it was really nice. To be continued... and directed by Alexander J. Newell. It featured Jonathan Sims as The Archivist, Alexander J. Newell as Martin Blackwood, Chioman Walioba as Annabelle Kane, and Ray Chong-Ni as Mikhail Selesa. 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. To be continued... J. Topaz, Ida Karolyusen, Patrick Lusk, Frood, Bella Choi, Daniela, Jonathan, Lauren Smithwick, Gil, Taro, Desiree Certain, Maggie Benson, Mundetiam, Ruth Harris, Abel Strictly, Neely, Chiara DiFilippo, Beau, Molly Bushby-Medlin, Bea Murray, Van Bedardard Harrison Regan Space Ghosts M. Whalen Seven Goblins in a Trenchcoat

Escherzo Kia Benedict Destiny Rivers Danny Urbina Lair Nick Gilbert PJ Bradley Cinderane

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