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"It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train — a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter."

-  H. P. Lovecraft, At the Mountains of Madness

Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook from my Great Old Ones & Their Kin series for an upcoming Elder Gods Tarot project:

Elder Things
Mi-Go, the Fungis of Yuggoth
Hunting Horrors
Leng Spiders
Dark Young

Great Race of Yith
Deep Ones
Flying Polyps

The colour out of space
Shans, the Insects of Shaggai
Desh, creatures from beyond
Stellar Vampire
Dimensional Shambler
Fire Vampires 
Tindalos Hound
Servitor God - Flutist 


"I had a little shoggoth
I conjured up one day
I used an elder sigil
So shoggoth and I play

Shoggoth, shoggoth, shoggoth
With mouths and pseudopods
Shoggoth, shoggoth, shoggoth
Foul creature of the gods

One day while we were playing
My monstrous pal broke free
I'd dropped the elder sigil
Li'l shoggy turned on me

Shoggoth, shoggoth, shoggoth
He ripped me to a shred
Shoggoth, shoggoth, shoggoth
We played and now I'm dead

- The Dunwich Children's Chorale from the Album "A Very Scary Solstice" (…)

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© 2017 - 2021 Astanael
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DolphinSilverwolf's avatar
Just wait until the Shoggoth meets the Thing.  It would either make for an epic battle down to the sub-cellular level, or it would result in some very strange slashfic.
Astanael's avatar
Terrible, terrible idea ! The horrid Shoggoth are protoplasmic and do not have a central nervous system. They (it?) can be sliced as many times you want, that would only create more shoggoth, that can recombine to produce a larger one.

If supposedly the Thing is copying the host cellular specifics, an hybrid would be kind like a super shoggoth, retaining coherency of the previous host.

A truly terrifying thought indeed.
DolphinSilverwolf's avatar
It'd probably also be somewhat schizophrenic...

"I keep devouring this human, and it keeps splitting off as the same human!  Dafuq?!"
Astanael's avatar
Just giving you barely enough time for a headstart.
DolphinSilverwolf's avatar
And yet nobody thought about hitting the Shoggoth with thermite or neurotoxins.  Although it'd take a few devoured troop deployments before they hit on the right neurotoxin...
Astanael's avatar

The soggoths are said to be residual manifestation of Ubbo Sathla, the source. As such, they are continuously evolving and rearranging their own biochemistretry. I don't think a neurotoxin would work, for they had no central nervous system to affect and can evolve quickly. Thermite is a very bad idea. Heat would only accelerate their pseudocells reproduction rate. You'll have better chance with cryoweapons, for they notoriously dislike cold. Note that i din't said "be harmed" by cold. Finally I think it's a matter of narrative perspective. Lovecraftian horror is not something you can "fix"or "eradicate". It is a lost battle, with no hope. Mankind cannot compete or even be measured against the Old Ones, that is preposterous. If you just want to imagine some monsters to frag, battle and fight against and win, that is not Lovecraftian.

StrangeStickmanStuff's avatar
Astanael's avatar
"March 22d. The darkness had materially increased, relieved only by the glare of the water thrown back from the white curtain before us. Many gigantic and pallidly white birds flew continuously now from beyond the veil, and their scream was the eternal Tekeli-li! as they retreated from our vision. Hereupon Nu-Nu stirred in the bottom of the boat; but upon touching him we found his spirit departed. And now we rushed into the embraces of the cataract, where a chasm threw itself open to receive us. But there arose in our pathway a shrouded human figure, very far larger in its proportions than any dweller among men. And the hue of the skin of the figure was of the perfect whiteness of the snow."

- The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym by Edgar Allan Poe
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