Where black stars rise

Where flap the tatters of the King

Prayer for the Algorithm

Bless the Algorithm and Its content. Bless the Upvote and the Downvote of It. May Its streaming cleanse the world. May It keep the world for Its people.

Azure of House Petrichor

Azure is the enclave’s cook and confessor. They change their hair constantly, but it’s consistently a deep blue. Scuttlebutt suggests it’s their natural color. Youngish-looking, they’re somewhere in their thirties. Or immediately outside thereof, one direction or the other. Their gender is basically unknowable, recognized as void. There’s something in their bearing that refuses to […]

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