Oxygen
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The Cathedral was beginning to take shape. It was a perfect, desolate companion to the Crucible.
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A plague breaks out in a remote Russian town. An artist and doctor escaping persecution become entangled in the events there. Old friends are found, new friends are lost. There are six days left until the end.
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Assorted Oneirotects and Threefold Bullet stories.
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the experience of human or divine love seems inevitably grounded in pain by Oxygen
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
11 May 2023
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A 9 page Threefold Bullet comic.
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Andrey is drawn to the beauty of contradictions. It seems to him that Daniil is woven out of them.
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A translation of “Противоположности” by Caelibem.
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Summary
What starts off as lighthearted teasing becomes a little more intimate in nature, and Anna finds a way around her mysophobia.
Bookmarked by Oxygen
23 Jan 2026
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Peter and Farkhad went to the Capital to purchase materials for new Kain's project. It just so happened that a significant part of the money was spent on drinking and partying, so after another outing, they had to stay in a cheap hotel in a poor area.
It is in such a situation that Peter thinks about an act that will change his whole life.Bookmarked by Oxygen
25 Apr 2024
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A journal entry from Daniil's perspective about meeting the twins.
Bookmarked by Oxygen
22 Mar 2024
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Apollo Sauroktonos Emerging from Still Waters by Creaturial
Fandoms: Мор. Утопия | Pathologic
15 Mar 2024
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His voice was chthonian and soft to the touch, rounded like the back of a beast as it rolled over his tongue.
Oh, the house was for him. (Or he was for the house.) Maybe it had been the plan since the beginning, or maybe this was a lucky, opportune coincidence; what other people could have called a blessing.
Once they would be gone — dawned upon Petr — he would never come back again, but this place, as him, as his, would stand. The Cathedral, as him, as his, would still stand. The house was not filled with music, but with voice. Felt like it regardless.
They needed to convince the Kains. They had no other choice.What choice was there even to have? We will never know. This is a story about the Oneirotects, about the house that lies still and restless, and about men who do quite the same.
Bookmarked by Oxygen
15 Mar 2024
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When Andrey was that drunk and that unsatisfied, his wayward boots always took the same route, leading him to the cemetery. Be that bittersweet intimacy of mementing his mori or the silence that drew him in, it was never just the existential dilemma, but the physical invocation also: Andrey was drunk and his bladder was as tight as his ties with the law enforcement. Painfully tight, always managing to piss him off. And there wasn’t a better place to defile than a place of grief.
Bookmarked by Oxygen
23 Feb 2024