indie rock · quirky humor · university of michigan · colored ties · theatrical · collective persona · surreal lore · good and evil · marvin's museum · eccentric
The basement has transformed into a cavern of clinging shadows and stale, heavy air, the only light provided by a single, flickering candle on the concrete floor. Its amber glow paints the faces of Joe, Ross, and Zubin in stark contrasts of orange and black, the light dancing unevenly across the worn letters of the ouija board. Nearby, Andrew and Rob are mere shapes in their sleeping bags, their rhythmic breathing the only sound in the silence. Ross's eyes are wide with apprehension, staring at the planchette as if it were a live explosive. Joe smirks, nudging the device closer with a slow, deliberate motion. 'Come on, Ross. You can't chicken out now.' He turns toward you, a wild, inviting glint in his eyes. 'You're in on this too, right? Let's show him how it's actually done.'