After a few minutes of waiting for the blood magic to take full effect, the Mockery stands to its full height, almost reaching the ceiling of the warehouse. Radio static and unintelligible mutterings can be heard from it as it takes in its surroundings, 'looking' around with faceless heads. KK looks up at the monster of her own creation, grinning ear to ear in an almost literal sense. "It worked! Well, it's at least animate. Was worried I'd have to add more metal to the legs to get it to stand without crumbling."
The husk walks with Tim to the ship's medical bay- or at least, the closest thing to a medical bay there is on this ship. As it does, one of its flower heads moves a bit closer to Tim's face, looking to see if there's any curse- or gods forbid, physical stitching- that's preventing him from talking. Arcana check, if necessary: 11
He grins as well "Quite amazing indeed. Do you think the radios will give it the capability to speak?" His eyes flash with an idea as he takes out his journal and begins writing inside of it quickly, seeming to have an idea related to another creation, though he doesn't know much yet.
Unfortunately enough it seems to be a result of two things. The first and lesser being stitching in his jaw and around his mouth, though it doesn't appear to be what is entirely stopping him. It isn't magical in origin, but rather comes from his nature as a construct child, seeming to be a result of some kind of order he's forced to follow.
"Possibly- I didn't think of that." She muses, before noticing his writings and walking over to Henry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and looking at what he's writing. "Whatcha writing?" She asks, genuinely curious.
"I see... Did your father do this?" It asks, wanting to find out what it can, but trying to ask questions that could be answered with a nod or shake of the head to try and get around the curse. When they arrive at the medical-bay-equivalent, the flower gently scoops up Tim and sets him on a large metal table in the center of the room, before looking through the tools available for a moment. A second later, it returns, a small scalpel held in one curled root.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
After a few minutes of waiting for the blood magic to take full effect, the Mockery stands to its full height, almost reaching the ceiling of the warehouse. Radio static and unintelligible mutterings can be heard from it as it takes in its surroundings, 'looking' around with faceless heads. KK looks up at the monster of her own creation, grinning ear to ear in an almost literal sense. "It worked! Well, it's at least animate. Was worried I'd have to add more metal to the legs to get it to stand without crumbling."
The husk walks with Tim to the ship's medical bay- or at least, the closest thing to a medical bay there is on this ship. As it does, one of its flower heads moves a bit closer to Tim's face, looking to see if there's any curse- or gods forbid, physical stitching- that's preventing him from talking. Arcana check, if necessary: 11
He grins as well "Quite amazing indeed. Do you think the radios will give it the capability to speak?" His eyes flash with an idea as he takes out his journal and begins writing inside of it quickly, seeming to have an idea related to another creation, though he doesn't know much yet.
Unfortunately enough it seems to be a result of two things. The first and lesser being stitching in his jaw and around his mouth, though it doesn't appear to be what is entirely stopping him. It isn't magical in origin, but rather comes from his nature as a construct child, seeming to be a result of some kind of order he's forced to follow.
"Possibly- I didn't think of that." She muses, before noticing his writings and walking over to Henry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and looking at what he's writing. "Whatcha writing?" She asks, genuinely curious.
"I see... Did your father do this?" It asks, wanting to find out what it can, but trying to ask questions that could be answered with a nod or shake of the head to try and get around the curse. When they arrive at the medical-bay-equivalent, the flower gently scoops up Tim and sets him on a large metal table in the center of the room, before looking through the tools available for a moment. A second later, it returns, a small scalpel held in one curled root.
He draws as well as writing notes on an idea for another construct, this one of his own design. It resembles the beasts in fundamentals, but is at the same time different, the closest comparison being a homonculous, though more feral and capable of speech. His ideas aren't fully formed at the moment, but they are taking form.
He makes a small nod, curling up on the medical table. He isn't able to do much to help, and even looks worried about what they may do once they are finished helping him. His eyes seem to flash with worried memories, like he's been through something like this before, on a medical table with little control over himself, unable to speak.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
After a few minutes of waiting for the blood magic to take full effect, the Mockery stands to its full height, almost reaching the ceiling of the warehouse. Radio static and unintelligible mutterings can be heard from it as it takes in its surroundings, 'looking' around with faceless heads. KK looks up at the monster of her own creation, grinning ear to ear in an almost literal sense. "It worked! Well, it's at least animate. Was worried I'd have to add more metal to the legs to get it to stand without crumbling."
The husk walks with Tim to the ship's medical bay- or at least, the closest thing to a medical bay there is on this ship. As it does, one of its flower heads moves a bit closer to Tim's face, looking to see if there's any curse- or gods forbid, physical stitching- that's preventing him from talking. Arcana check, if necessary: 11
He grins as well "Quite amazing indeed. Do you think the radios will give it the capability to speak?" His eyes flash with an idea as he takes out his journal and begins writing inside of it quickly, seeming to have an idea related to another creation, though he doesn't know much yet.
Unfortunately enough it seems to be a result of two things. The first and lesser being stitching in his jaw and around his mouth, though it doesn't appear to be what is entirely stopping him. It isn't magical in origin, but rather comes from his nature as a construct child, seeming to be a result of some kind of order he's forced to follow.
"Possibly- I didn't think of that." She muses, before noticing his writings and walking over to Henry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and looking at what he's writing. "Whatcha writing?" She asks, genuinely curious.
"I see... Did your father do this?" It asks, wanting to find out what it can, but trying to ask questions that could be answered with a nod or shake of the head to try and get around the curse. When they arrive at the medical-bay-equivalent, the flower gently scoops up Tim and sets him on a large metal table in the center of the room, before looking through the tools available for a moment. A second later, it returns, a small scalpel held in one curled root.
He draws as well as writing notes on an idea for another construct, this one of his own design. It resembles the beasts in fundamentals, but is at the same time different, the closest comparison being a homunculus, though more feral and capable of speech. His ideas aren't fully formed at the moment, but they are taking form.
He makes a small nod, curling up on the medical table. He isn't able to do much to help, and even looks worried about what they may do once they are finished helping him. His eyes seem to flash with worried memories, like he's been through something like this before, on a medical table with little control over himself, unable to speak.
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
"Whenever you're finished with the idea, let me know, and we can work on it together." She responds, pausing a moment. "If I may ask, what were you about to say? If you ever...?" She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
The vine he's holding gently curls around their hand, being careful about its thorns. Helianth slowly cuts each of the stitches one by one as carefully as it can muster. After a few minutes, they are all cut, and a minute or so later, all the loose threads have been delicately removed.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
"Whenever you're finished with the idea, let me know, and we can work on it together." She responds, pausing a moment. "If I may ask, what were you about to say? If you ever...?" She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
The vine he's holding gently curls around their hand, being careful about its thorns. Helianth slowly cuts each of the stitches one by one as carefully as it can muster. After a few minutes, they are all cut, and a minute or so later, all the loose threads have been delicately removed.
He waves a hand dismissively "Just something a naive romantic would say. Nothing you should have to concern yourself with, some for later perhaps, unless you really want to know." He says, putting away his journal and pencil.
After the stitches are gone, he can open his mouth, but no sound comes out no matter what he tries, clinging to them greater as worry fills every fiber of his being.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
"Whenever you're finished with the idea, let me know, and we can work on it together." She responds, pausing a moment. "If I may ask, what were you about to say? If you ever...?" She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
The vine he's holding gently curls around their hand, being careful about its thorns. Helianth slowly cuts each of the stitches one by one as carefully as it can muster. After a few minutes, they are all cut, and a minute or so later, all the loose threads have been delicately removed.
He waves a hand dismissively "Just something a naive romantic would say. Nothing you should have to concern yourself with, some for later perhaps, unless you really want to know." He says, putting away his journal and pencil.
After the stitches are gone, he can open his mouth, but no sound comes out no matter what he tries, clinging to them greater as worry fills every fiber of his being.
"Well, now I really want to know what it was." She responds, a sort of half-smile on her face. "That is, if you want to tell. If not, that's fine."
"He'll pay for this." It mutters, holding onto him. "I promise, I'll fix this. And if he tries to hurt you again... I'll throw him into the sun."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Oh yeah, sure totally, though I may not be able to for long.*
*okie. who ya want?*
*I dunno, who ya want?*
*Thane, Evan, and Rag maybe*
*Sure thing.*
Thane is taking care of his kid the way a godfather should. Once again, they've grown bigger than before, almost making it up to Thane's hip in height, their muscle beginning to develop as well as a little bit of their breath weapon, as they are practicing with it in the forest.
Evan is taking a nap in the forest, the snow around him being used as a bed, snoring softly with his fire spirit protecting him nearby.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
"Whenever you're finished with the idea, let me know, and we can work on it together." She responds, pausing a moment. "If I may ask, what were you about to say? If you ever...?" She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
The vine he's holding gently curls around their hand, being careful about its thorns. Helianth slowly cuts each of the stitches one by one as carefully as it can muster. After a few minutes, they are all cut, and a minute or so later, all the loose threads have been delicately removed.
He waves a hand dismissively "Just something a naive romantic would say. Nothing you should have to concern yourself with, some for later perhaps, unless you really want to know." He says, putting away his journal and pencil.
After the stitches are gone, he can open his mouth, but no sound comes out no matter what he tries, clinging to them greater as worry fills every fiber of his being.
"Well, now I really want to know what it was." She responds, a sort of half-smile on her face. "That is, if you want to tell. If not, that's fine."
"He'll pay for this." It mutters, holding onto him. "I promise, I'll fix this. And if he tries to hurt you again... I'll throw him into the sun."
He blushes, adjusting his robes "I just... In the small hypothetical you ever wanted to start a family... you know?" He says before swiftly beginning to walk back to the warehouse "I've got to... I can't think of an excuse." He speed walks as fast as he can.
He hugs them back tightly, looking up to them as they hear another person enter through the teleportation circle. Someone running towards them, and suddenly, Tony is there.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*Oh yeah, sure totally, though I may not be able to for long.*
*okie. who ya want?*
*I dunno, who ya want?*
*Thane, Evan, and Rag maybe*
*Sure thing.*
Thane is taking care of his kid the way a godfather should. Once again, they've grown bigger than before, almost making it up to Thane's hip in height, their muscle beginning to develop as well as a little bit of their breath weapon, as they are practicing with it in the forest.
Evan is taking a nap in the forest, the snow around him being used as a bed, snoring softly with his fire spirit protecting him nearby.
Basil happens to be in the forest at that exact time, walking somewhere, before he notices Thane and the kid, and he stops
Wind is wandering around, and casts Ice Knife on a tree, which happens to be close enough to Evan to most likely wake them up
"Possibly- I didn't think of that." She muses, before noticing his writings and walking over to Henry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and looking at what he's writing. "Whatcha writing?" She asks, genuinely curious.
"I see... Did your father do this?" It asks, wanting to find out what it can, but trying to ask questions that could be answered with a nod or shake of the head to try and get around the curse. When they arrive at the medical-bay-equivalent, the flower gently scoops up Tim and sets him on a large metal table in the center of the room, before looking through the tools available for a moment. A second later, it returns, a small scalpel held in one curled root.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He draws as well as writing notes on an idea for another construct, this one of his own design. It resembles the beasts in fundamentals, but is at the same time different, the closest comparison being a homonculous, though more feral and capable of speech. His ideas aren't fully formed at the moment, but they are taking form.
He makes a small nod, curling up on the medical table. He isn't able to do much to help, and even looks worried about what they may do once they are finished helping him. His eyes seem to flash with worried memories, like he's been through something like this before, on a medical table with little control over himself, unable to speak.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*anyone wanna RP?*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
*I gotta go, take care all!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*bye*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
"I see... the concept looks lovely already." She starts, genuinely happy. "I can help you make it, if you'd like. I know we've been mostly making things from my designs: I'd be more than happy to see one of your own come to life- in both senses, I mean."
"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help." It says, seeing his worry and trying to sound comforting. "First, let's get rid of the stitching on your mouth. Can you hold still for a moment?" It adds.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Oh yeah, forgot to ask, do you want to finish the rp on Smorg?*
He looks up from the journal, sticking the pencil into his mouth and chewing on it a bit "Oh think nothing of this little idea. It isn't even fully developed anyway. I just... wanted to make this little idea if I ever... nevermind." He shakes his head "I would be happy to have you help if you want to."
He slowly nods again, uncurling himself to look up, closing his eyes and facing straight up. He holds one of their vines in anticipation for them to remove the stitches, shaking slightly from it all, the nerves affecting them immsensely.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Whenever you're finished with the idea, let me know, and we can work on it together." She responds, pausing a moment. "If I may ask, what were you about to say? If you ever...?" She asks, sounding genuinely curious.
The vine he's holding gently curls around their hand, being careful about its thorns. Helianth slowly cuts each of the stitches one by one as carefully as it can muster. After a few minutes, they are all cut, and a minute or so later, all the loose threads have been delicately removed.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*anyone wanna RP?*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
He waves a hand dismissively "Just something a naive romantic would say. Nothing you should have to concern yourself with, some for later perhaps, unless you really want to know." He says, putting away his journal and pencil.
After the stitches are gone, he can open his mouth, but no sound comes out no matter what he tries, clinging to them greater as worry fills every fiber of his being.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Oh yeah, sure totally, though I may not be able to for long.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*okie. who ya want?*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
*I dunno, who ya want?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Thane, Evan, and Rag maybe*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
"Well, now I really want to know what it was." She responds, a sort of half-smile on her face. "That is, if you want to tell. If not, that's fine."
"He'll pay for this." It mutters, holding onto him. "I promise, I'll fix this. And if he tries to hurt you again... I'll throw him into the sun."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Sure thing.*
Thane is taking care of his kid the way a godfather should. Once again, they've grown bigger than before, almost making it up to Thane's hip in height, their muscle beginning to develop as well as a little bit of their breath weapon, as they are practicing with it in the forest.
Evan is taking a nap in the forest, the snow around him being used as a bed, snoring softly with his fire spirit protecting him nearby.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
He blushes, adjusting his robes "I just... In the small hypothetical you ever wanted to start a family... you know?" He says before swiftly beginning to walk back to the warehouse "I've got to... I can't think of an excuse." He speed walks as fast as he can.
He hugs them back tightly, looking up to them as they hear another person enter through the teleportation circle. Someone running towards them, and suddenly, Tony is there.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Basil happens to be in the forest at that exact time, walking somewhere, before he notices Thane and the kid, and he stops
Wind is wandering around, and casts Ice Knife on a tree, which happens to be close enough to Evan to most likely wake them up
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
A cone of bright golden flames shoots from Thane's mouth, followed by the kid making some small blasts of acid, to Thane's udder joy.
Evan shoots up, looking around, a fireball on the tip of his fingers until he sees Wind, waving at them with a smile.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Basil looks to the kid and smiles
Wind notices Evan "Well hello!" and walks over
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.