"I can do that, I'm really fast and I'm good on water."
"But you said you have another job. This one'd be full time, kid."
"I doubt it'll be full time for me. I can do both jobs, don't worry, dudette."
"We travel far and wide." she seems to be testing him. "It's pretty dangerous"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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)
She stumbled along with him. “Thank you…” she puts on the jacket. “I… I don’t know… what’s… hypothermia?”
"It's just somethin' that happens when ya get too cold. Do you need help? Are your legs strong enough to carry you?" He asks, deeply concerned about them.
“I… I can walk… is it also like this inside? Cold?”
"If it is, I will help you, I can make it warmer for you." He sits them down next to the fire, giving them the hot cocoa, before sitting down nearby.
"I can do that, I'm really fast and I'm good on water."
"But you said you have another job. This one'd be full time, kid."
"I doubt it'll be full time for me. I can do both jobs, don't worry, dudette."
"We travel far and wide." she seems to be testing him. "It's pretty dangerous"
“Dangerous? Sounds fun.” He says with a smile, like someone who’s been through danger before.
"Monsters, storms? You ready for that?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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'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 Big Burger Beastro is back! Nice cheap food, animatronic mascots, and vending machines all over town with advanced technology!
...And the violent events that got the place shut down in the first place.
A small gang is lying around in a dilapidated warehouse, some of them unconscious, some of them rolling on the ground in pain, and some of them still trying to fight the threat. Bullets and knives are deflected off the plush exterior, and most fail to stand up for long enough to get heavier weapons into the field. The bear grabs a man by the face and tosses him aside into another gangster, his deep laugh echoing in his mechanically augmented costume. Big Bimothy makes his way up the stairs toward the leader, shoving anyone who stands in his way off the stairwell.
The leader, a mage, chants and holds out his hands to create a continuous blast of flame, burning and burning and burning the mascot... until a hand made of bare steel reaches out of the cloud of fire and grips his throat, stopping the spell and badly burning his neck. The bear, now looking even more horrific with its burning subdermal plating revealed, stares into the mage's eyes. It leans close, its mouth a skeletal grin, its eyes unamused. The teeth part slightly, allowing a tiny amount of light to reach the man within. "Don't deal drugs to kids." He whispers, his voice distorted and amplified by the speakers within the suit.
He slams the man's face into the railing, stabs him several times in the back with his previously unused knife, then pushes him over the edge. He looks out at the house of injured criminals. "Any objections?" No responses.
The beast looks down at his armor. "You ruined my costume." He sighs and leaves through the door behind him, shattering the lock as he yanks it open.
The Big Burger Beastro is back! Nice cheap food, animatronic mascots, and vending machines all over town with advanced technology!
...And the violent events that got the place shut down in the first place.
A small gang is lying around in a dilapidated warehouse, some of them unconscious, some of them rolling on the ground in pain, and some of them still trying to fight the threat. Bullets and knives are deflected off the plush exterior, and most fail to stand up for long enough to get heavier weapons into the field. The bear grabs a man by the face and tosses him aside into another gangster, his deep laugh echoing in his mechanically augmented costume. Big Bimothy makes his way up the stairs toward the leader, shoving anyone who stands in his way off the stairwell.
The leader, a mage, chants and holds out his hands to create a continuous blast of flame, burning and burning and burning the mascot... until a hand made of bare steel reaches out of the cloud of fire and grips his throat, stopping the spell and badly burning his neck. The bear, now looking even more horrific with its burning subdermal plating revealed, stares into the mage's eyes. It leans close, its mouth a skeletal grin, its eyes unamused. The teeth part slightly, allowing a tiny amount of light to reach the man within. "Don't deal drugs to kids." He whispers, his voice distorted and amplified by the speakers within the suit.
He slams the man's face into the railing, stabs him several times in the back with his previously unused knife, then pushes him over the edge. He looks out at the house of injured criminals. "Any objections?" No responses.
The beast looks down at his armor. "You ruined my costume." He sighs and leaves through the door behind him, shattering the lock as he yanks it open.
*I'll be back in a bit*
*Anyone on?*
*Big Bimothy is my new favorite mascot*
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.
The Big Burger Beastro is back! Nice cheap food, animatronic mascots, and vending machines all over town with advanced technology!
...And the violent events that got the place shut down in the first place.
A small gang is lying around in a dilapidated warehouse, some of them unconscious, some of them rolling on the ground in pain, and some of them still trying to fight the threat. Bullets and knives are deflected off the plush exterior, and most fail to stand up for long enough to get heavier weapons into the field. The bear grabs a man by the face and tosses him aside into another gangster, his deep laugh echoing in his mechanically augmented costume. Big Bimothy makes his way up the stairs toward the leader, shoving anyone who stands in his way off the stairwell.
The leader, a mage, chants and holds out his hands to create a continuous blast of flame, burning and burning and burning the mascot... until a hand made of bare steel reaches out of the cloud of fire and grips his throat, stopping the spell and badly burning his neck. The bear, now looking even more horrific with its burning subdermal plating revealed, stares into the mage's eyes. It leans close, its mouth a skeletal grin, its eyes unamused. The teeth part slightly, allowing a tiny amount of light to reach the man within. "Don't deal drugs to kids." He whispers, his voice distorted and amplified by the speakers within the suit.
He slams the man's face into the railing, stabs him several times in the back with his previously unused knife, then pushes him over the edge. He looks out at the house of injured criminals. "Any objections?" No responses.
The beast looks down at his armor. "You ruined my costume." He sighs and leaves through the door behind him, shattering the lock as he yanks it open.
The Big Burger Beastro is back! Nice cheap food, animatronic mascots, and vending machines all over town with advanced technology!
...And the violent events that got the place shut down in the first place.
A small gang is lying around in a dilapidated warehouse, some of them unconscious, some of them rolling on the ground in pain, and some of them still trying to fight the threat. Bullets and knives are deflected off the plush exterior, and most fail to stand up for long enough to get heavier weapons into the field. The bear grabs a man by the face and tosses him aside into another gangster, his deep laugh echoing in his mechanically augmented costume. Big Bimothy makes his way up the stairs toward the leader, shoving anyone who stands in his way off the stairwell.
The leader, a mage, chants and holds out his hands to create a continuous blast of flame, burning and burning and burning the mascot... until a hand made of bare steel reaches out of the cloud of fire and grips his throat, stopping the spell and badly burning his neck. The bear, now looking even more horrific with its burning subdermal plating revealed, stares into the mage's eyes. It leans close, its mouth a skeletal grin, its eyes unamused. The teeth part slightly, allowing a tiny amount of light to reach the man within. "Don't deal drugs to kids." He whispers, his voice distorted and amplified by the speakers within the suit.
He slams the man's face into the railing, stabs him several times in the back with his previously unused knife, then pushes him over the edge. He looks out at the house of injured criminals. "Any objections?" No responses.
The beast looks down at his armor. "You ruined my costume." He sighs and leaves through the door behind him, shattering the lock as he yanks it open.
*I'll be back in a bit*
*Anyone on?*
*Big Bimothy is my new favorite mascot*
*Cool! Wanna RP?*
*sure. think I could also interact with Archer too?*
Thirteen has detected the magic exuded in the brawl and is now investigating the anachronistic establishment.
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.
The world around the trees ripples, like when you throw a stone into a lake, changing the surface of the water with a mere action. Through it, an arm suddenly shoots out, a desperate way almost. It seems to defy logic as it presses a hand against the air as if it were solid, another arm joining it. A man steps out from the crack that is made, fingers tearing at the edge of reality as if it were a blanket.
He stands a mere 5'6, nothing horribly tall, with fair skin that color of cut almonds. He has slicked back blackish-brown hair that is cut short and neatly cut around the neck. His light stubble is the same, though it seems to barely be growing. His eyes are orange as the setting sun, glowing slightly with flecks of black in the center. He wears a white button-up dress shirt, a black waistcoat with silver snaps, and a pair of black dress pants. His nails are painted black though it seems to be more of a permanent thing than a choice thing.
He looks around carefully before taking a step and falling straight on his face. He sits up and looks at his legs like they betrayed him. "C'mon... I know this things been in rigor mortis but this is crazy..." He grumbles and tries to stand up again. As if by his will alone, a black cane made of crystalized cubic formations forms in his hand. He looks surprised and smirks to himself "Well I'm glad to know that isn't an issue.."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*I do believe I must have to go soon, I apologize.*
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.)
"We travel far and wide." she seems to be testing him. "It's pretty dangerous"
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)
“Dangerous? Sounds fun.” He says with a smile, like someone who’s been through danger before.
"Monsters, storms? You ready for that?"
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'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)
*Anyone on?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Big Bimothy is my new favorite mascot*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Cool! Wanna RP?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*sure. think I could also interact with Archer too?*
Thirteen has detected the magic exuded in the brawl and is now investigating the anachronistic establishment.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Of course!*
(The Warehouse or the Big Burger Beastro?)
Archer Valentine is rampaging through the woods, and more specifically, through the demons that he summoned in the woods to vent his frustrations on.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Hello you G A Y S. I am painting yet another box because I got new art supplies and felt like I should.*
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
*Box boy*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Indeed, I hide in them all the time.*
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
*Will it still serve as an adequate disguise during Operation Snake Eater?*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Probably not.*
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
(the warehouse)
Riotan is also in the woods, preying on some of the lesser demons to slake his sadistic hunger.
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 want to bring Alex into the tavern but his backstory and who he is a person is really violent and riddled with insanity.*
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
*:((((*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*anyway, Stroth's new body*
The world around the trees ripples, like when you throw a stone into a lake, changing the surface of the water with a mere action. Through it, an arm suddenly shoots out, a desperate way almost. It seems to defy logic as it presses a hand against the air as if it were solid, another arm joining it. A man steps out from the crack that is made, fingers tearing at the edge of reality as if it were a blanket.
He stands a mere 5'6, nothing horribly tall, with fair skin that color of cut almonds. He has slicked back blackish-brown hair that is cut short and neatly cut around the neck. His light stubble is the same, though it seems to barely be growing. His eyes are orange as the setting sun, glowing slightly with flecks of black in the center. He wears a white button-up dress shirt, a black waistcoat with silver snaps, and a pair of black dress pants. His nails are painted black though it seems to be more of a permanent thing than a choice thing.
He looks around carefully before taking a step and falling straight on his face. He sits up and looks at his legs like they betrayed him. "C'mon... I know this things been in rigor mortis but this is crazy..." He grumbles and tries to stand up again. As if by his will alone, a black cane made of crystalized cubic formations forms in his hand. He looks surprised and smirks to himself "Well I'm glad to know that isn't an issue.."
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