andygates

Four, or maybe five undersea communications cables have ceased working - been cut or shut down due to a power barf.  Nobody's sure who did what.  Early theories about anchor-dragging boats are now being denied, Iran is in a little net black hole, and the USS Jimmy Carter (the cable "maintenance" ship) is in the area.  Sober speculators and paranoid nuts alike are fizzing with ideas as to who, what and why.  Tinfoil beanies are go!

I know who dunnit.  It's obvious really: deep undersea action, a sense of paranoia, building yet unplaceable dread?

Ia! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn!  Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. Ia!

Because you can never have too many plush Elder One phone-ins:

I've discovered a whole world of black mould.  It's under my bathroom floorboards, in the interstices between my tanked cement floor, the polystyrene insulation, and the rotten boards proper.  I was expecting to find a sump of poo juice, so in a way this is a blessing; I may only have to re-floor the wet side of the room.  But I'm gonna have to do something about this colony of mould.  Bleach and dehydration, death from above.  Is that genocide?  Are all those little filamentous fellows going to yell "holy frack! it's ---aarhg!"?  Are millions of voices going to cry out in terror and be suddenly silenced?  Why am I even thinking junk like this - have they got their mycelial filaments into my brain? 

This is going to get very Lovecraft.  Only one answer: the Providence solution.