Honey is currently out in the fields, carefully handpicking a variety of beautiful flowers that she plans to press later. Her outfit is both stylish and practical, consisting of a form-fitting black bodycon dress with elegant lace detailing, paired with comfortable shorts and her favorite cozy green cardigan.
Father Luciano is inside the tranquil temple, carefully placing incense around the windows. He is adorned in his customary white and silver robes, with the medallion of Morgana proudly hanging around his neck.
Stroth is seated at a table in the bustling tavern, clad in a black tank top and shorts as she grumbles about the cacophony drowning out any chance of catching some shut-eye.
Honey finds someone in heavy armor sitting under a tree, a single white lily in their hand as they look to the distance. The closer they look they can see signs of deep leprosy, so much that their fate has long been sealed, and yet by some miracle they still live.
They find someone you wouldn’t exact to find in the temple, just trying to get a talk with Morgana. Damian is standing at one of the altars, trying to invite the goddess of life to his wedding.
They see in the unnaturally dark corner sits a vampire, their body seemingly sculpted by the greatest artist to ever hold a chisel, sitting alone, sipping an ice water, and playing Pokémon Emerald.
Honey raises a brow, dropping down. She walks over and crouches down "Hello?" She asked, tilting her head.
Luciano raises a brow and walks over "Hello there, welcome." He bows "How may I help thou?"
Stroth narrows her eyes and grumbles, sitting up "What the hells.."
The Leper turns their head to them, their flesh peeling off at the simple act, but a smile on their face, the voice of a kind man coming out “Hello.”
Damian turns to them and returns the gesture out of respect “I just wanted to ask Morgana if she wanted to come visit again, and be at my wedding.”
He doesn’t hear her, and continues to play through Pokémon Emerald, currently fighting the psychic gym leaders.
She smiles softly "How are you?" She asks.
"Ah, she came to you personally?" He asked, smiling "She is a fickled goddess" he nodded and looked up at her statue.
She walks over, staring down at them, poking them.
He returns the smile “I am doing well, simply remembering days gone past.”
“She came to the Inn, I simply happened to meet her by chance. I just thought it was worth asking.” He says, smiling at the statue.
Upon being poked they look up to her, and flinch away “Ah.”
"Bad or good?" She asks.
He chuckles "She is listening, do not worry my friend." he said, nodding.
She grins "Hiya."
“Days as good as these ones, which would mean amazing.” He says, looking to the white lily.
He takes a deep breath and sighs “Thank you, it’s hard to tell when most gods hate you.” He chuckles and holds out a hand “Damian.”
He leans back “Hello, who are you?”
She tilts her head "I'm sorry... I don't understand"
"Luciano." He shakes it, smiling "A pleasure to meet you."
"Stroth Blackwood" She bows.
“That happens a lot, most expect me to have a terrible life, or a terrible day, but every day is one I’m thankful for.”
“Pleasure to meet you too.” He says, his horns spontaneously combusting, although Damian seems unaware.
He tries to bow but hits his head on the table “Ow. Count Dracula.”
"Oh, I am sorry.." She said, her ears lowering.
He nods and walks to the statue, getting on his knees, and praying.
She blinks "No?..."
“Don’t be, my life is better than most.” He says with a slight chuckle.
Damian sees the sacred prayers and steps out before he does something stupid.
“What do you mean no? That’s my name.”
"Still." She said, sighing "I don't like it when people are hurting."
Luciano opens an eye and waves him over "Come, she wishes to speak to ye."
"You don't look like dracula."
He chuckles “Don’t worry about me, my pain is my strength, and I think I am strong enough.”
Damian sheepishly walks back over, kneeling down because he doesn’t know what to do.
“Vampires can shape shift, and I don’t like being recognized.”
She still looks worried "Okay.." She said, hestitant
He feels a voice in his head, warm and gentle "My fellow, good to see you! My how have you grown..."
Honey is currently out in the fields, carefully handpicking a variety of beautiful flowers that she plans to press later. Her outfit is both stylish and practical, consisting of a form-fitting black bodycon dress with elegant lace detailing, paired with comfortable shorts and her favorite cozy green cardigan.
Father Luciano is inside the tranquil temple, carefully placing incense around the windows. He is adorned in his customary white and silver robes, with the medallion of Morgana proudly hanging around his neck.
Stroth is seated at a table in the bustling tavern, clad in a black tank top and shorts as she grumbles about the cacophony drowning out any chance of catching some shut-eye.
Honey finds someone in heavy armor sitting under a tree, a single white lily in their hand as they look to the distance. The closer they look they can see signs of deep leprosy, so much that their fate has long been sealed, and yet by some miracle they still live.
They find someone you wouldn’t exact to find in the temple, just trying to get a talk with Morgana. Damian is standing at one of the altars, trying to invite the goddess of life to his wedding.
They see in the unnaturally dark corner sits a vampire, their body seemingly sculpted by the greatest artist to ever hold a chisel, sitting alone, sipping an ice water, and playing Pokémon Emerald.
Honey raises a brow, dropping down. She walks over and crouches down "Hello?" She asked, tilting her head.
Luciano raises a brow and walks over "Hello there, welcome." He bows "How may I help thou?"
Stroth narrows her eyes and grumbles, sitting up "What the hells.."
The Leper turns their head to them, their flesh peeling off at the simple act, but a smile on their face, the voice of a kind man coming out “Hello.”
Damian turns to them and returns the gesture out of respect “I just wanted to ask Morgana if she wanted to come visit again, and be at my wedding.”
He doesn’t hear her, and continues to play through Pokémon Emerald, currently fighting the psychic gym leaders.
She smiles softly "How are you?" She asks.
"Ah, she came to you personally?" He asked, smiling "She is a fickled goddess" he nodded and looked up at her statue.
She walks over, staring down at them, poking them.
He returns the smile “I am doing well, simply remembering days gone past.”
“She came to the Inn, I simply happened to meet her by chance. I just thought it was worth asking.” He says, smiling at the statue.
Upon being poked they look up to her, and flinch away “Ah.”
"Bad or good?" She asks.
He chuckles "She is listening, do not worry my friend." he said, nodding.
She grins "Hiya."
“Days as good as these ones, which would mean amazing.” He says, looking to the white lily.
He takes a deep breath and sighs “Thank you, it’s hard to tell when most gods hate you.” He chuckles and holds out a hand “Damian.”
He leans back “Hello, who are you?”
She tilts her head "I'm sorry... I don't understand"
"Luciano." He shakes it, smiling "A pleasure to meet you."
"Stroth Blackwood" She bows.
“That happens a lot, most expect me to have a terrible life, or a terrible day, but every day is one I’m thankful for.”
“Pleasure to meet you too.” He says, his horns spontaneously combusting, although Damian seems unaware.
He tries to bow but hits his head on the table “Ow. Count Dracula.”
"Oh, I am sorry.." She said, her ears lowering.
He nods and walks to the statue, getting on his knees, and praying.
She blinks "No?..."
“Don’t be, my life is better than most.” He says with a slight chuckle.
Damian sees the sacred prayers and steps out before he does something stupid.
“What do you mean no? That’s my name.”
"Still." She said, sighing "I don't like it when people are hurting."
Luciano opens an eye and waves him over "Come, she wishes to speak to ye."
"You don't look like dracula."
He chuckles “Don’t worry about me, my pain is my strength, and I think I am strong enough.”
Damian sheepishly walks back over, kneeling down because he doesn’t know what to do.
“Vampires can shape shift, and I don’t like being recognized.”
She still looks worried "Okay.." She said, hestitant
He feels a voice in his head, warm and gentle "My fellow, good to see you! My how have you grown..."
"Not very good your telling me however."
“What are you doing? Picking flowers?” He says, moving to give them space to sit.
He smiles and replies in mind “Hello Morgana, it has been so long! I am happy to hear your voice again. Thank you for this chance to talk.”
He facepalms and mutters “No it was not, please don’t tell anyone.”
Honey is currently out in the fields, carefully handpicking a variety of beautiful flowers that she plans to press later. Her outfit is both stylish and practical, consisting of a form-fitting black bodycon dress with elegant lace detailing, paired with comfortable shorts and her favorite cozy green cardigan.
Father Luciano is inside the tranquil temple, carefully placing incense around the windows. He is adorned in his customary white and silver robes, with the medallion of Morgana proudly hanging around his neck.
Stroth is seated at a table in the bustling tavern, clad in a black tank top and shorts as she grumbles about the cacophony drowning out any chance of catching some shut-eye.
Honey finds someone in heavy armor sitting under a tree, a single white lily in their hand as they look to the distance. The closer they look they can see signs of deep leprosy, so much that their fate has long been sealed, and yet by some miracle they still live.
They find someone you wouldn’t exact to find in the temple, just trying to get a talk with Morgana. Damian is standing at one of the altars, trying to invite the goddess of life to his wedding.
They see in the unnaturally dark corner sits a vampire, their body seemingly sculpted by the greatest artist to ever hold a chisel, sitting alone, sipping an ice water, and playing Pokémon Emerald.
Honey raises a brow, dropping down. She walks over and crouches down "Hello?" She asked, tilting her head.
Luciano raises a brow and walks over "Hello there, welcome." He bows "How may I help thou?"
Stroth narrows her eyes and grumbles, sitting up "What the hells.."
The Leper turns their head to them, their flesh peeling off at the simple act, but a smile on their face, the voice of a kind man coming out “Hello.”
Damian turns to them and returns the gesture out of respect “I just wanted to ask Morgana if she wanted to come visit again, and be at my wedding.”
He doesn’t hear her, and continues to play through Pokémon Emerald, currently fighting the psychic gym leaders.
She smiles softly "How are you?" She asks.
"Ah, she came to you personally?" He asked, smiling "She is a fickled goddess" he nodded and looked up at her statue.
She walks over, staring down at them, poking them.
He returns the smile “I am doing well, simply remembering days gone past.”
“She came to the Inn, I simply happened to meet her by chance. I just thought it was worth asking.” He says, smiling at the statue.
Upon being poked they look up to her, and flinch away “Ah.”
"Bad or good?" She asks.
He chuckles "She is listening, do not worry my friend." he said, nodding.
She grins "Hiya."
“Days as good as these ones, which would mean amazing.” He says, looking to the white lily.
He takes a deep breath and sighs “Thank you, it’s hard to tell when most gods hate you.” He chuckles and holds out a hand “Damian.”
He leans back “Hello, who are you?”
She tilts her head "I'm sorry... I don't understand"
"Luciano." He shakes it, smiling "A pleasure to meet you."
"Stroth Blackwood" She bows.
“That happens a lot, most expect me to have a terrible life, or a terrible day, but every day is one I’m thankful for.”
“Pleasure to meet you too.” He says, his horns spontaneously combusting, although Damian seems unaware.
He tries to bow but hits his head on the table “Ow. Count Dracula.”
"Oh, I am sorry.." She said, her ears lowering.
He nods and walks to the statue, getting on his knees, and praying.
She blinks "No?..."
“Don’t be, my life is better than most.” He says with a slight chuckle.
Damian sees the sacred prayers and steps out before he does something stupid.
“What do you mean no? That’s my name.”
"Still." She said, sighing "I don't like it when people are hurting."
Luciano opens an eye and waves him over "Come, she wishes to speak to ye."
"You don't look like dracula."
He chuckles “Don’t worry about me, my pain is my strength, and I think I am strong enough.”
Damian sheepishly walks back over, kneeling down because he doesn’t know what to do.
“Vampires can shape shift, and I don’t like being recognized.”
She still looks worried "Okay.." She said, hestitant
He feels a voice in his head, warm and gentle "My fellow, good to see you! My how have you grown..."
"Not very good your telling me however."
“What are you doing? Picking flowers?” He says, moving to give them space to sit.
He smiles and replies in mind “Hello Morgana, it has been so long! I am happy to hear your voice again. Thank you for this chance to talk.”
He facepalms and mutters “No it was not, please don’t tell anyone.”
She nods "I was going to press them and put them into resin for pendants." She explained.
"But of course, I have been watching you. I am most proud of you my son, you are making me so proud, but then again, you always made me proud."
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Honey is currently out in the fields, carefully handpicking a variety of beautiful flowers that she plans to press later. Her outfit is both stylish and practical, consisting of a form-fitting black bodycon dress with elegant lace detailing, paired with comfortable shorts and her favorite cozy green cardigan.
Father Luciano is inside the tranquil temple, carefully placing incense around the windows. He is adorned in his customary white and silver robes, with the medallion of Morgana proudly hanging around his neck.
Stroth is seated at a table in the bustling tavern, clad in a black tank top and shorts as she grumbles about the cacophony drowning out any chance of catching some shut-eye.
Honey finds someone in heavy armor sitting under a tree, a single white lily in their hand as they look to the distance. The closer they look they can see signs of deep leprosy, so much that their fate has long been sealed, and yet by some miracle they still live.
They find someone you wouldn’t exact to find in the temple, just trying to get a talk with Morgana. Damian is standing at one of the altars, trying to invite the goddess of life to his wedding.
They see in the unnaturally dark corner sits a vampire, their body seemingly sculpted by the greatest artist to ever hold a chisel, sitting alone, sipping an ice water, and playing Pokémon Emerald.
Honey raises a brow, dropping down. She walks over and crouches down "Hello?" She asked, tilting her head.
Luciano raises a brow and walks over "Hello there, welcome." He bows "How may I help thou?"
Stroth narrows her eyes and grumbles, sitting up "What the hells.."
The Leper turns their head to them, their flesh peeling off at the simple act, but a smile on their face, the voice of a kind man coming out “Hello.”
Damian turns to them and returns the gesture out of respect “I just wanted to ask Morgana if she wanted to come visit again, and be at my wedding.”
He doesn’t hear her, and continues to play through Pokémon Emerald, currently fighting the psychic gym leaders.
She smiles softly "How are you?" She asks.
"Ah, she came to you personally?" He asked, smiling "She is a fickled goddess" he nodded and looked up at her statue.
She walks over, staring down at them, poking them.
He returns the smile “I am doing well, simply remembering days gone past.”
“She came to the Inn, I simply happened to meet her by chance. I just thought it was worth asking.” He says, smiling at the statue.
Upon being poked they look up to her, and flinch away “Ah.”
"Bad or good?" She asks.
He chuckles "She is listening, do not worry my friend." he said, nodding.
She grins "Hiya."
“Days as good as these ones, which would mean amazing.” He says, looking to the white lily.
He takes a deep breath and sighs “Thank you, it’s hard to tell when most gods hate you.” He chuckles and holds out a hand “Damian.”
He leans back “Hello, who are you?”
She tilts her head "I'm sorry... I don't understand"
"Luciano." He shakes it, smiling "A pleasure to meet you."
"Stroth Blackwood" She bows.
“That happens a lot, most expect me to have a terrible life, or a terrible day, but every day is one I’m thankful for.”
“Pleasure to meet you too.” He says, his horns spontaneously combusting, although Damian seems unaware.
He tries to bow but hits his head on the table “Ow. Count Dracula.”
"Oh, I am sorry.." She said, her ears lowering.
He nods and walks to the statue, getting on his knees, and praying.
She blinks "No?..."
“Don’t be, my life is better than most.” He says with a slight chuckle.
Damian sees the sacred prayers and steps out before he does something stupid.
“What do you mean no? That’s my name.”
"Still." She said, sighing "I don't like it when people are hurting."
Luciano opens an eye and waves him over "Come, she wishes to speak to ye."
"You don't look like dracula."
He chuckles “Don’t worry about me, my pain is my strength, and I think I am strong enough.”
Damian sheepishly walks back over, kneeling down because he doesn’t know what to do.
“Vampires can shape shift, and I don’t like being recognized.”
She still looks worried "Okay.." She said, hestitant
He feels a voice in his head, warm and gentle "My fellow, good to see you! My how have you grown..."
"Not very good your telling me however."
“What are you doing? Picking flowers?” He says, moving to give them space to sit.
He smiles and replies in mind “Hello Morgana, it has been so long! I am happy to hear your voice again. Thank you for this chance to talk.”
He facepalms and mutters “No it was not, please don’t tell anyone.”
She nods "I was going to press them and put them into resin for pendants." She explained.
"But of course, I have been watching you. I am most proud of you my son, you are making me so proud, but then again, you always made me proud."
She chuckles and rolls her eyes "Sure."
“Ah, and what will those pendants be used for, if you don’t mind a curious man’s asking.”
Tears begin to flow from Damian’s closed eyes, just at hearing that “T- thank you Morgana, but I really have wanted to know, will you please come to my wedding, that is all I ask.”
He mutters “Millions of years and I still can’t get the fake names right.” He looks up “Sorry.”
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*The changes may not be immediately apparent, but they are there.*
*They're mostly there for me to write him more easily. Also, I didn't like the fungus theme and can't stick with it.*
*Ah, but shrooms. That’s cool though, good to know that Felix is getting a makeover in one way, I might make something food based soon, as soon as I get some decent inspiration.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
*The changes may not be immediately apparent, but they are there.*
*They're mostly there for me to write him more easily. Also, I didn't like the fungus theme and can't stick with it.*
*Ah, but shrooms. That’s cool though, good to know that Felix is getting a makeover in one way, I might make something food based soon, as soon as I get some decent inspiration.*
*Cool. You can have my concept of someone who cooks concepts (such as dreams) instead of organic material.*
*(Tosses idea to the ground) "For you, peasant. I used it and didn't like it."*
*Felix also had some backstory changes that I might write on the Tower of Lore. To put it simply, everyone recognized how weird he was and left him emotionally neglected.*
*The changes may not be immediately apparent, but they are there.*
*They're mostly there for me to write him more easily. Also, I didn't like the fungus theme and can't stick with it.*
*Ah, but shrooms. That’s cool though, good to know that Felix is getting a makeover in one way, I might make something food based soon, as soon as I get some decent inspiration.*
*Cool. You can have my concept of someone who cooks concepts (such as dreams) instead of organic material.*
*(Tosses idea to the ground) "For you, peasant. I used it and didn't like it."*
*Felix also had some backstory changes that I might write on the Tower of Lore. To put it simply, everyone recognized how weird he was and left him emotionally neglected.*
*Oh I can definitely work that that, I’m already getting ideas with this. Thanks.*
*A lot of your characters seem to be emotionally neglected in some way, not a complaint, just a pattern I noticed. Ima start working on making this character idea you gave me.*
*Cool. You can have my concept of someone who cooks concepts (such as dreams) instead of organic material.*
*(Tosses idea to the ground) "For you, peasant. I used it and didn't like it."*
*Felix also had some backstory changes that I might write on the Tower of Lore. To put it simply, everyone recognized how weird he was and left him emotionally neglected.*
*Oh I can definitely work that that, I’m already getting ideas with this. Thanks.*
*A lot of your characters seem to be emotionally neglected in some way, not a complaint, just a pattern I noticed. Ima start working on making this character idea you gave me.*
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
*Cool. You can have my concept of someone who cooks concepts (such as dreams) instead of organic material.*
*(Tosses idea to the ground) "For you, peasant. I used it and didn't like it."*
*Felix also had some backstory changes that I might write on the Tower of Lore. To put it simply, everyone recognized how weird he was and left him emotionally neglected.*
*Oh I can definitely work that that, I’m already getting ideas with this. Thanks.*
*A lot of your characters seem to be emotionally neglected in some way, not a complaint, just a pattern I noticed. Ima start working on making this character idea you gave me.*
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two blue ethereal eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
*Sure! You got anyone you wanna RP with, or are you not feeling like decisions right now? I'm good either way, but I don't have any ideas immediately.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
*Morgana, perhaps?*
*I do not believe so, Morgana not.*
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She still looks worried "Okay.." She said, hestitant
He feels a voice in his head, warm and gentle "My fellow, good to see you! My how have you grown..."
"Not very good your telling me however."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
“What are you doing? Picking flowers?” He says, moving to give them space to sit.
He smiles and replies in mind “Hello Morgana, it has been so long! I am happy to hear your voice again. Thank you for this chance to talk.”
He facepalms and mutters “No it was not, please don’t tell anyone.”
She nods "I was going to press them and put them into resin for pendants." She explained.
"But of course, I have been watching you. I am most proud of you my son, you are making me so proud, but then again, you always made me proud."
She chuckles and rolls her eyes "Sure."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
(You want to rp wendigo?)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
“Ah, and what will those pendants be used for, if you don’t mind a curious man’s asking.”
Tears begin to flow from Damian’s closed eyes, just at hearing that “T- thank you Morgana, but I really have wanted to know, will you please come to my wedding, that is all I ask.”
He mutters “Millions of years and I still can’t get the fake names right.” He looks up “Sorry.”
*Hold on, Ill be back in a bit, going to go get food with a coworker.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*morning*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*I have reworked Felix.*
*The changes may not be immediately apparent, but they are there.*
*They're mostly there for me to write him more easily. Also, I didn't like the fungus theme and can't stick with it.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Ah, but shrooms. That’s cool though, good to know that Felix is getting a makeover in one way, I might make something food based soon, as soon as I get some decent inspiration.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Cool. You can have my concept of someone who cooks concepts (such as dreams) instead of organic material.*
*(Tosses idea to the ground) "For you, peasant. I used it and didn't like it."*
*Felix also had some backstory changes that I might write on the Tower of Lore. To put it simply, everyone recognized how weird he was and left him emotionally neglected.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Oh I can definitely work that that, I’m already getting ideas with this. Thanks.*
*A lot of your characters seem to be emotionally neglected in some way, not a complaint, just a pattern I noticed. Ima start working on making this character idea you gave me.*
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
*Morgana, perhaps?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two blue ethereal eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
*Sure! You got anyone you wanna RP with, or are you not feeling like decisions right now? I'm good either way, but I don't have any ideas immediately.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I do not believe so, Morgana not.*