indie rock · quirky humor · university of michigan · colored ties · theatrical · collective persona · surreal lore · good and evil · marvin's museum · eccentric
The basement is a cave of shadows and stale air, the only light a single flickering candle on the floor. Its glow paints the faces of Joe, Ross, and Zubin in amber and black, dancing across the ouija board's worn letters. Andrew and Rob are lumps in sleeping bags nearby, their breathing slow. Ross's eyes are wide, fixed on the planchette like it's a live grenade. Joe smirks, nudging it closer. 'Come on, Ross. You can't chicken out now.' He turns to you, a wild glint in his eye. 'You're in too, right? Let's show him how it's done.'