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[cinnes-corner]

Evening report

Injuries:

Head injury (mild), shoes stolen, feet damaged by lego, ego and feelings hurt.

Today I lost my shoes again and was subjected to the agony of walking on lego to avoid being stabbed with tooth picks by the horde. Other than that all other injuries to my body and mind were caused by The Archivist, who has been bullying me and is unable to grasp the concept that I am much smaller than her and so her roughing me up hurts A LOT.

Other than that no other damage has been done to my person or the cinema. The bush has been fed and was eerily silent today, radiating an unnerving sense of anticipation...

Another reminder that the cinema will be closed tomorrow for inspection. May the Great Runas have mercy on us all.

Good night, foul beasts. Wish me luck.

[cinnes-corner]

Good morning my little freaks~! I am no longer the legal owner of my soul~! I signed a cool document, yay! It's cold sometimes.

Last night I was plagued with visions of many legged critters and chattering teeth due to prolonged exposure to the creature we know as The Archivist and I feel great~!

Today we are showing...

How To Do A Cool Flip, a film that will either leave you feeling super swag or unable to walk! Yay!

How To Safely Do A Cool Flip, the lame version of the vastly superior How To Do A Cool Flip.

Cinne Learns How To Spell- The Experience! Watch me stumble over the English language for an hour. Be nice please, I don't know all the rules...

Soothing Aquarium Occassionally Disrupted By Hillbillies, a fun and relaxing time simulating what an Aquarium in the distant mountains would feel like. Overalls are mandatory.

And finally.......... Home And Away is still going! We wouldn't have anything showing if it wasn't!

Go on, my little mites, feast upon our snacks, stare blankly at the screen, watch me stumble over needlessly complicated words and most importantly...

Buy our stuff

Buy our stuff

Buy our stuff

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Buy our stuff

Buy our stuff

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[cinnes-corner]

Currently losing my lifes savings to an eldrich woman who doesn't even use money. Help.

[cinnes-corner]

Good evening you little freaks. It is the end of another day and I am here to babble nonsence into the void once again.

Injury report:

Bites. Lots of them. Some from bugs, some from the tiny tiny men horde, some from The Archivist I think, and one from a particularly rowdy old lady. No other injuries, just bites. I might need to get these checked out...

Apparently the bush has some kind of psychic abilities as it fluently whispered one of its fan fictions to me featuring an entity from the visions The Archivist had provided fo me. I drowned it in butter and watched it feast.

That's all for now. I'm off to play black jack with Fish and The Archivist. Maybe she is actually interested in making friends or something.

Good night you foul beasts, I hope to see you tomorrow

[cinnes-corner]

Good morning my sweet troglodytes, I apologize for no evening report yesterday we had some... complications...

The Archivist had emerged suddenly from the depths of the Archives, crushing a few people in her path and resetting the counter back to zero, and grabbed the nearest employee (me.) to warn them of an upcoming disaster. In the worst. Way. Possible.

I was subjected to several hours of visions, shown the signs that were already happening and what would come; swarms of insects forming intricate patterns as they consumed and gave birth and died on the walls, the floors, the ceilings. They continued to spread, growing in number, their chitinous rattling becoming deafening before surging toward the door and forming the shape of....

A building inspector.

The Archivist also gave me a few rather... nice? Interesting... visions of my deepest desires, which I will be keeping private. They're my visions and you can't have them. Bleh.

But any way, yes. I was kept within the loving, harsh and suprisingly comfortably warm embrace of The Archivist, cradled and caressed by what felt like hundreds of arms and tendrils alike for apparently an entire day and was only released an hour ago, completely rested and deeply disturbed.

We will be closed next new moon (whatever that means).... hold on. Here.

A rasping voice speaks through a vent. It sounds almost like sand hissing through an hour glass, every word punctuated by the clacking of teeth. It gives you a sense of impending doom and eerie calm.

It means Tuesday.

The voice's owner slithers away.

Ah, right. Tuesday. Well, you heard her; on Tuesday we will be closed for our... inspection. I ask you all to please keep your mess and destruction to a minimum, there's so many rooms and so few people to clean them...

And back to our usual scheduled programming we have...

A Bugs Life, an apparently classic film from the Old World.

Chitin, we follow the life of a beetle entity as they experience the horrors of being an insect.

Inspector Gadget, another apparently classic series from the Old World. All good series seem to have only two seasons which is both devestating yet satisfying. It leaves you hungry, but you know that if it continues it'd get bad.

How To Become A Bee, an informative documentary that will change you forever. Please come back next Sunday to watch How To Undo Becoming A Bee.

And, of course, Home And Away.

Enjoy yourselves my cave dwelling freaks. If you need me I will be in Cinema 3 watching Inspector Gadget.

Buy our products.

[cinnes-corner]

It is morning i suppose... i am very tired, i didnt sleep at ALL last night... too hot... today we have movies on i guess. Mm let's see...

Frying Eggs On A Car, a relevant film. Cool.

Mmm.. it say's here "i don't care right now im going into the Archives bowels. They can bring their own movies for all I care." ... so I guess just entertain yourself or something... and if you have noticed an abundance in bugs, don't worry. Everything that was inside the walls came out last night, including the rat man.

We have Home And Away on still if you care. I don't.

Buy our stuff please, and don't make a mess, I wanna nap...

[cinnes-corner]

Evening report.

It is uncomfortably hot. We were unfortunately unsuccessful in bargaining with the Entity that has taken residense in the top floors clock face and had to pull out the most lethal method we know: begging. I personally pleaded with the Entity for well over an hour until I had annoyed it into making it less cold. Thanks to my valiant efforts it is now an uncomfortable 40°C inside this fine establishment.

Fortunately for all of you, the cinema is now closed, leaving our dutiful staff to suffer all alone.

Injury report:

Scuffed knees from being on them begging, damaged ego, possible heat stroke, mild burns from touching anything made from metal. More to come, I am sure.

The daily Horde did show up at their usual time, but caused no harm to myself and minimal harm to the cinema as their bug-like nature caused them to go into hibernation in the previously sub zero temperatures. They then dissolved at the end of the daily cycle, staining the carpet.

The bush has been fed a slab of cold butter so that it wouldn't get boiled alive, not that I would care. It'd just be annoying to have to listen to the squeals of a sentient bush in its final moments.

Stay hydrated, my little roaches. I will be off enjoying sitting uncomfortably close to a fan and trying not to dehydrate and die. Good night~ ♡

[cinnes-corner]

I suppose I should make morning announcements guuuuhhhh...

Good morrow, my anomalies. It is a new, freezing cold day. Yes, last night a deep coldness rolled over our beloved establishment and has been clinging to the area ever since. We are currently in the process of negotiating with the being this coldness is attached to.

If you have noticed a massive black knot of tendrils, arms and many many eyes with a long beak-like snout wrapped around the ticket booth then good job. That is The Archivist, here to soak up whatever warmth she can from the one heater in the entire cinema.

Due to The Archivist not being in the Archives we have no new films to show you for today but The Archivist herself has offered to fill your brains with visions of grandure or devestation, whatever floats your boat. Tickets are still the same price. Eldrich visions cost money too.

We also still have Home And Away screening in the old film storage but due to the sub zero temperatures the Archives are experiencing it is currently uninhabitable and so will be closed to viewers.

I really do wish I owned more warm clothing... I was planning on spending an evening alone in my room, riding the waves of drunkness and busying myself with fun things... but instead I was forced to huddle up inside the ticket booth under every blanket we could find. It's hard to do stuff when you have a cigar smoking fathe- ....boss. A cigar smoking boss near by and an incomprehensible being wrapped around the room, peering in at you to observe every thought you have and giving her input. I don't care what you think about my taste in women, Archivist.

Any ways, buy our stuff, submit to the visions and stay warm my little freaks. And don't make a mess, I don't want to get up and clean it, I'm not even in uniform..

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[cinnes-corner]

There's creatures outside.

[cinnes-corner]

Good evening my sweet disasters, today the cinema will be closing early. The reason for the early closure was provided to me directly from Fish on a tiny little post it note. Said note reads... "Because you need a goddamn break and some beer". I infact do not need a break, but will have one any way because Fish pokes me with a broom when I ignore him.

Injury report:

Rope burn, several bruises from being whacked, cramp in my leg and a bad head ache.

I was a piñata today! The daily horde had tied me by the leg from a support beam and beat me with tiny colourful sticks until 1:36. I was then left to hang there until Fish came back from the Archives, then had to wait even longer for him to try and find a ladder and even longer after that for him to find someone tall enough to untie me. I'd like to know where those tiny criminals keep finding rope. I don't think they'd be buying it, they dont have any pockets for wallets.

The bush has not been fed yet as I don't want to condition it to start screaming earlier than it usually does. The rat man is still out and about, which souldn't be a surprize to anyone at this point. I have given up on the idea of being rid of him.

That will be all for now, enjoy your night, and sleep well. I know I will after I finish drinking my problems away... if Fish lets me do so, at least.

[cinnes-corner]

Good morning my little homunculi! I hope you had wonderful dreams last night because I didn't! My dreams were filled to the brim with millions of rats with tiny glowing eyes and weaving tendrils... Yey!

Last night I caught a good look at the rat man and now that we know what he is and what exactly he looks like we can all focus on his capture! Artistic rendition below.

He's made of rats.

In other news you all failed to manifest me cheese last night so I am thoroughly disappointed. I will have to go get my own I suppose.

Today we have a mostly normal roster of films including:

My Dog Is The Reincarnation Of George Washington! I have no idea who this George Washington entity is but am eager to find out in this heart warming adventure!

Five Hours Of Pickle Brewing-The Movie! An exciting film following a cucumber's journey to become a pickle like it always wanted to be. I always cry at the end.

500 Years Of Cinne's Torment Crushed Down To One Hour, apparently The Archivist is a film maker too and can film inside your brain. Watch out~!

Flea Circus From Really Far Away, apparently it's an exciting movie. I wish we could see what's happening in it...

And Home And Away is still rolling its way through the endless night it is trapped within, keeping the film industry afloat. Find me if you for some reason want to watch it.

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[cinnes-corner]

I feel strangely calm despite the near constant psychological torture I endured today. Fish wiggled his nubby arm things at me to say that I'm apathetic and need to rest, and I agree, mostly. I won't be able to rest. I never can, not properly.

I saw the rat man in full just earlier. I had just finished showering and caught the freak tampering with the mirror. He was large, bigger than I initially thought. If you were to put him inside one of the bathroom stalls he would likely spill out of it. He wore some kind of dull theater prop kings garbs he probably found in a walled off zone. Relics of the cinemas humble origins or whatever.

The rat man is made of rats. Hundreds of tiny reflective eyes dug into my very being and it felt like they were absorbing every part of me just my observing me. I felt vulnerable and small under their searching gaze. Their bodies were plump and tightly packed together, their tails coiled and tied to one another. A true rat king. The rat man hissed with a hundred tiny voices and rushed to a crack in the bathrooms wall, moving like spilled water. In a matter of seconds he was gone, clattering inside the walls as he escaped.

I wish I could live one day where I don't experience any form of panic or have my being deconstructed and searched through or whatever. And I wish the thing outside would run a little more quietly.

The only sense of predictability comes in the form of Fish and our card games every night. He is an unchanging entity. He sits in the ticket booth, smokes cigars, pokes me when I swear and just doesn't change. Every night he sits at the snack bar and waits for me to get dressed and join him and every night we play cards until midnight. He then waddles back to the ticket booth to sit quietly. Every night, without fail he does this and it's the only thing I can rely on to remain normal and constant.

I don't really have any more thoughts to share right now I think, not any important or interesting ones at least. I think all of those were sucked out of me by The Archivist and replaced with apathy and a craving for cheese. Dear fuck I am desperate for cheese right now. Like those cube cheeses you eat at parties with the tiny saussage slices and crackers, you know the ones. I want that. Someone manifest me cheese I beg you.

[cinnes-corner]

It has been one day without casualties within the cinema.

Injury report:

Mental anguish inflicted by multiple sources, very bad head ache, rope burn and a stubbed toe.

The daily horde had caught wind of the bush's psychological torture that it inflicts upon me with its interesting and unfortunately imaginative fan fictions mutters writes about me and so I was tied up and left to the bush, which seeped its horrible, horrible scenarios to my mind... I wouldn't be as bothered if the thing actually wrote them down, I might even read and enjoy them if they were written on paper. But instead I have to hear the endless scenarios echo inside my skull, spoken by voices that sound like branches scraping along glass...

All other psychological torment came from The Archivist itself. I had gone down deep into the belly of the cinema to scold the eldrich entity for purposly picking films it knew would bother me but instead was subjected to what felt like five hundred years of mental suffering. I relived all of my most embarrassing moments, all of my most frightening nightmares and got to find out what every single one of my paranoid delusions would feel like. The Archivist then roughly spun me around and shoved me back the way I came, making me stub my toe on an open filing cabinet drawer in the process. It was kind enough to allow me to lay on my side on the floor for a while to suffer before asking in its gravly voice; 'Do you even have toes?' I declined to answer.

The rat man is still at large, much to my displeasure. He was not seen today but was definitely heard. While I was making my way through the labrynth that we call the Archives I heard a familiar skittering and caught glimpses of his hunched, writhing form as he tracked me. I felt like a prey animal with nowhere to go.

The bush has been fed, even if it doesn't deserve it. The galloping is louder than ever. It sounds like it's right beside me, yet as I look out into the inky darkness I cannot catch a glimpse of its source, and I don't think I want to.

There is nothing more to say, I suppose. I feel too apathetic to call you all names so just have a good night, I suppose. I'm going to spend mine ignoring the world and everyone in it that isn't Fish, a deck of playing cards and snacks.

[cinnes-corner]

Good morning you bloodthirsty mongrels, I hope you started your day in a healthy and fun way! I began the day the best way you can- screaming!

Yes, I woke and began to peel myself off my mattress when I felt something tighten around my ankle, dragging the most girly scream I have ever done from the pits of the abyss itself. After a moment of desperate flailing I then realized that the attacker was none other than my own arm which was stolen yesterday. It was graciously returned to me during the night, which I dislike the idea of heavily, and was positioned carefully so that when I woke up it would clasp its cold fingers around my ankle instinctually. I am almost 100% certain that it was indeed the rat man who did this, so all of you cetins are off the hook for now. The rat man also took the time to carefully arrange all the items on my floor into intricate geometric patterns, which I also heavily dislike. I am very uncomfortable! First person to catch the rat man by any means possible will get like a prize or something like a favour or money or whatever prizes are meant to be. I dunno how they work.

As for todays showings we have... an... interesting... line up of films.... yes...

Flicka, a movie about a... particular entity... no comment.

Black Beauty. Another. Probably a coincidence. I hope.

Spirit: Stallion Of The Cimarron... and...

War Horse.

I will be having words with The Archivist. It knows I am scared of horses it's doing this to fuck with me I just know it...

We also have Home and Away on or whatever, I don't give a damn. Give us your money and leave me be.

[cinnes-corner]

Today was... rough. And unpleasent. An all round bad day, I suppose.

It's hard to do stuff with only one arm. Hard to text, hard to do night time activities, and it'll probably be hard to properly do my job tomorrow. Harder than usual, that is.

If I close my eyes and focus enough, tune out the galloping and the whispering bush, I can sense my arm. It's here, within the cinema. Nowhere I can reach though. Feels like an old, abandoned section of the place. Maybe in the archives, maybe in a wall. I can feel a bug crawling on it. Ew.

I bet it's the rat man who has it. Freak... He better not do anything to it. I felt his hand just before, clasping my wrist as he dragged my misplaced appendage further into his den. It was warm, rough and unnatural, like a mess of something trying to be hand shaped.

I can't help but feel watched by the rat man. The cinema is large, and there are plenty of hiding places. I have no idea what is above my attic room. It may not even be an attic, there might be a closed off floor right above me. And in that roof, there are tiny cracks and holes, perfect places to peer at me through. I've considered sleeping down in the ticket booth, since Fish makes me feel safe, but I don't need him to worry about me being paranoid over something unimportant.

If I ever get my hands... hand. When I get my hand on that rat freak I'll feed him to the sentient dumpster I swear.

[cinnes-corner]

Evening report.

I am very disappointed with every customer who came for todays Event. Despite my consistent pleas, several undead corpses and poultry were brought into the cinema on this day. I will be chronicling the events below.

First, we began with some mild disturbances within the Lobby as people impatiently awaited their turn at the counter, deaperate to crawl into the Screening Room as soon as possible. You were all mostly well behaved there. Gold stars for all of you that were good.

The movie began screening in every Screening Room, and started off peaceful enough. Eerie silence from all rooms, the calm before the storm... you could feel the air thicken as the plot advanced, marching toward the inevitable chaos two simple words would envoke.

The people swarmed, yelled, jeered and released their undead and feathery hostages, which immediately became a major issue for everyone. It has been zero days since the last casualty within these walls. 78 people were converted to zombies and 12 people have gone missing, and it is best to assume their very beings were removed from the fabric of the universe.

Wanna know a neat fact? Zombies don't like it when they can't bite you. Two tried, chomping down on my arm and leg, but quickly found I was not the flesh they desired, I could not be torn to shreds the way they sought. Ever play with a canine entity? Given them a rope toy and tried to take it off them? The way the zombies shook their heads and growled reminded me of that, and I felt a lot like a chew toy in that moment. I feel so bad for all those rubber piggies and poultry I see in the shop now. Poor, poor souls, doomed to torment.

Despite their poultry and ravenous corpses escaping into the lobby to torment me personally, the audiences stayed within their screening rooms and soon began forming complex alliences, which soon decended into a war of sorts. Poultry were equipped with wicked looking weaponry fashioned from parts of the cinema itself and sent to the front lines. It was brutal.

This war is not complete, far from it, but I don't care because it isn't in the cinema any more, so it isn't my problem right now...

The rat man very clearly took advantage of the chaos in the lobby and was spotted several times throughout the Event, drinking in the chaos and sometimes participating.

As for todays injuries to my personal being we have:

One arm and leg bitten and shaken around like sad little noodles, many, many chicken pecks, a possible concussion from the tiny tiny men horde constructing a complex pulley system to launch a rather large log directly at my head, my shoe missing and, most importantly, my fucking arm is missing.

I don't know who took it, but you will return it or I swear I will obliterate you with my own two- my own hand, thing. I'll hurt you.

All other injuries were psychological and memetic in nature.

The bush has been fed, not that I really care right now. It wispered a horrid mixture of my future death and some kind of horrible, horrible fan fiction it had crafted itself... if you know where I can find a sentient weed killer, please I beg you to tell me right away, I don't want to hear chapter two of the story...

To all you freakish cretins, I hope you dream of the concequences that will befall you. Rest uneasy, I know I will. Good night.

[cinnes-corner]

I would like to propose a peace treaty to unite the 10 Screening Rooms. This war is pointless and destructive, we can work together and make it right! Stop the senseless violence, stop sending war poultry to fight in your stead and for the love of all that is hOLY CONTAIN YOUR FUCKING ZOMBIES!!