I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
Mauric is in the heavenly city, trying to send a message back to Nick or Felix.
Riotan is pouring concrete on a body.
*Actually I want Riotan too.*
He would find places where telepathic connections can be made, of course these have prices attached. The Aasimar clerk of the location sitting, waiting silently.
Thane makes his way over, watching Riotan silently, his eyes as vacant as always.
Mauric is in the heavenly city, trying to send a message back to Nick or Felix.
Riotan is pouring concrete on a body.
*Actually I want Riotan too.*
He would find places where telepathic connections can be made, of course these have prices attached. The Aasimar clerk of the location sitting, waiting silently.
Thane makes his way over, watching Riotan silently, his eyes as vacant as always.
“Uh, excuse me?” He inquired politely. “May I contact a friend of mine on the Material Plane?”
“Hey hey!” Rio says cheerily, tossing the encased carcass into the river and getting to his feet. “What can I do for you?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Mauric is in the heavenly city, trying to send a message back to Nick or Felix.
Riotan is pouring concrete on a body.
*Actually I want Riotan too.*
He would find places where telepathic connections can be made, of course these have prices attached. The Aasimar clerk of the location sitting, waiting silently.
Thane makes his way over, watching Riotan silently, his eyes as vacant as always.
“Uh, excuse me?” He inquired politely. “May I contact a friend of mine on the Material Plane?”
“Hey hey!” Rio says cheerily, tossing the encased carcass into the river and getting to his feet. “What can I do for you?”
He looks incredibly tired, rubbing his eyes after taking off his glasses, his voice equally tired "Who might you be? Are you even real? I haven't slept in ten days."
He adjusts his bowler hat, rubbing his hands together, stressed "T-the Valentines. They are coming... for you... for me... for Sparrow... all of us."
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.'
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Mauric is in the heavenly city, trying to send a message back to Nick or Felix.
Riotan is pouring concrete on a body.
*Actually I want Riotan too.*
He would find places where telepathic connections can be made, of course these have prices attached. The Aasimar clerk of the location sitting, waiting silently.
Thane makes his way over, watching Riotan silently, his eyes as vacant as always.
“Uh, excuse me?” He inquired politely. “May I contact a friend of mine on the Material Plane?”
“Hey hey!” Rio says cheerily, tossing the encased carcass into the river and getting to his feet. “What can I do for you?”
He looks incredibly tired, rubbing his eyes after taking off his glasses, his voice equally tired "Who might you be? Are you even real? I haven't slept in ten days."
He adjusts his bowler hat, rubbing his hands together, stressed "T-the Valentines. They are coming... for you... for me... for Sparrow... all of us."
“I’m real. My name’s Mauric Tabrahain.”
“Ooh, how scintillating!” Rio looks excited.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
*guess who’s back*
*back again*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
*guess who’s back*
*back again*
*I love Reincarnating serial killers for the soul purpose that he is going back to working in a an Archdevils kitchen.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
*guess who’s back*
*back again*
*I love Reincarnating serial killers for the soul purpose that he is going back to working in a an Archdevils kitchen.*
*me too. are either of them open for rp?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons. You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
*Oh cool William's back.*
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.'
"Any flame can be sparked back to life, but if you don't want that flame back, you won't get it back."
He looks into their eyes, a smirk slowly spread "Do you want to hear that from a liar?"
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.)
hi i have a ref3vr
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, your favorite pretty boy, and certified silly goose
She sighs, resting her head on a hand "Life isn't bout needs though ain't it?"
He sighs again "Fine, not a single cent I'll gamble."
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.)
*Hello and huh?*
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.)
Thirteen is walking back from town, having sent in his latest paper to his publisher.
Mauric is in the heavenly city, trying to send a message back to Nick or Felix.
Vitroze is in their law office, conversing with someone worriedly via sending stone.
Loriche is making caltrops and Czech hedgehogs.
Riotan is pouring concrete on a body.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Woah-oh the rot!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Actually I want Riotan too.*
He would find places where telepathic connections can be made, of course these have prices attached. The Aasimar clerk of the location sitting, waiting silently.
Thane makes his way over, watching Riotan silently, his eyes as vacant as always.
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.)
*The rot? Do I want to know?*
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.)
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*It turns out I did not want to know, 33 seconds of strangeness. Hello to you too Baalze.*
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.)
“Uh, excuse me?” He inquired politely. “May I contact a friend of mine on the Material Plane?”
“Hey hey!” Rio says cheerily, tossing the encased carcass into the river and getting to his feet. “What can I do for you?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He looks incredibly tired, rubbing his eyes after taking off his glasses, his voice equally tired "Who might you be? Are you even real? I haven't slept in ten days."
He adjusts his bowler hat, rubbing his hands together, stressed "T-the Valentines. They are coming... for you... for me... for Sparrow... all of us."
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.)
Inside the dimly lit tavern, the soft notes of a piano waft through the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the patrons. Samaritan reclines in a sturdy chair by the piano, a thick cigar clenched between his teeth, his eyes fixated on the musician at the keys. The player, a human male, presents a peculiar sight—his body is a patchwork of mismatched flesh, sewn together in a way that hints at a troubled past.
His short brown hair, styled in a mock mohawk, draws attention to his defined, square jaw, which is adorned with a light stubble that gives him a rugged appearance. A brand, burnt into his skin, decorates the back of his neck, unmistakably bearing the infernal symbol of Gluttony, a mark of his dark history.
Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt and a tailored black vest, paired with sleek black dress pants, he exudes an odd blend of sophistication and rawness. His fingers glide over the piano keys with practiced precision, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody. Though his movements are somewhat rigid, he immerses himself in the music, singing softly to both himself and Samaritan, filling the tavern with an atmosphere that is at once enchanting and unsettling.
"Don't wanna call you in the nighttime, Don't wanna give you all my pieces, Don't wanna hand you all my trouble, Don't wanna give you all my demons.
You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away but tonight I'll need you to stay."
Samaritan chuckles, stubbing out the cigar on the bottom of his boot "Getting used to the new body huh? Good to hear you speak at least William." he nods. William chuckles "I'm trying at least, the body still has a bit of rigor mortis but nothing bad."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
“I’m real. My name’s Mauric Tabrahain.”
“Ooh, how scintillating!” Rio looks excited.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*guess who’s back*
*back again*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*I love Reincarnating serial killers for the soul purpose that he is going back to working in a an Archdevils kitchen.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He nods slowly "Oh. Okay. Who would you like to contact?"
He looks very worried, adjusting his bowler hat as it consistently tilts "No. Bad. Very. Very. Bad."
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.)
*me too. are either of them open for rp?*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Oh cool William's back.*
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.)