Anzar is standing outside of his house, gardening.
Lumen is running out of the forest, cussing at a wolf as he hurls rocks at it.
Anzar looks up. “Need any help with that?” He asks, clearly not intending to help.
"Obviously you aren't going to!" He sighs, and vines impale the wolf, stopping it from fighting him anymore
“There you go. You finished the fight all on your own. And you can do vines too?”
Said vines are black with red thorns, more red entirely now with the blood. "Shut up.."
“I got robbed yesterday. And then you made me join your cult. I really think I chose the wrong place to live.”
"If you just stayed in the Neighborhood, you wouldn't have gotten robbed. And, also, you can literally leave the c- er, Group, whenever."
“Hmph. You’re giving me a place to stay, currently. Once I find a better living situation, I’ll leave.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
My titles are the great Silver Dragon Lord of the Sky, Second in Command of the Dragon Cult, High Warlock of Cynophobia, High Cultist of Jeff, The Lightning Mage. I’m a ✨Chronically online teenage boy✨, and one of the most active posters on the forums (MORE THAN SALEM AND GONZALO). Always open to talk if you’d like to shoot me a PM! Please don’t hesitate to tell me I’m being a jerk or overbearing, I love helpful feedback! Love y’all!
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
The blood on the floor begins to boil and churn, and an entity resembling the Saint with his face removed rises from it, crackling with black energy. He's all black and red, and light interacts with him in a concerning way. Colors don't reflect on him, and the shadows cast on him are sharp and pitch black, no gradients. "Nice work." Comes the Starving Dark's warbling voice. It sounds like it's speaking through a fan. "What's the meaning behind this piece?"
Felix sits nearby, eyes closed, silently listening and mentally writing sheet music for Sam's song.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
The blood on the floor begins to boil and churn, and an entity resembling the Saint with his face removed rises from it, crackling with black energy. He's all black and red, and light interacts with him in a concerning way. Colors don't reflect on him, and the shadows cast on him are sharp and pitch black, no gradients. "Nice work." Comes the Starving Dark's warbling voice. It sounds like it's speaking through a fan. "What's the meaning behind this piece?"
Felix sits nearby, eyes closed, silently listening and mentally writing sheet music for Sam's song.
Simon huffs, pulling up his balaclava and stubbing the cigarette out on his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs "Anger let free. Rotting insides of someone."
Sam whips around at the sound of someone scratching on paper and tilts his head "Oi, ye are the lad who sat on my foot." He chuckles.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
He shrugs "Art." He rolls up the cloth of his balaclava and stubs out his cigarette on his neck. He closes his eyes and stands up, sighing.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
He shrugs "Art." He rolls up the cloth of his balaclava and stubs out his cigarette on his neck. He closes his eyes and stands up, sighing.
"That's not a good reason." he sighs and starts to get rid of the body
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
"oohhh~ someone special i assume?" timber chuckles
"Yeah," he scratches the back of his head. "She's something special alright"
"dont be embarresed, love is a wonderfull thing!"
"It really is"
"love is how I got into my current mess. wouldnt have it any other way though" timber nods thoughtfully, staying out of the sunlight
“A mess, huh?” He sits down on the grass. “I’d be willing to listen”
"well, how much do you know about vampires?"
"Not much."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
The blood on the floor begins to boil and churn, and an entity resembling the Saint with his face removed rises from it, crackling with black energy. He's all black and red, and light interacts with him in a concerning way. Colors don't reflect on him, and the shadows cast on him are sharp and pitch black, no gradients. "Nice work." Comes the Starving Dark's warbling voice. It sounds like it's speaking through a fan. "What's the meaning behind this piece?"
Felix sits nearby, eyes closed, silently listening and mentally writing sheet music for Sam's song.
Simon huffs, pulling up his balaclava and stubbing the cigarette out on his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs "Anger let free. Rotting insides of someone."
Sam whips around at the sound of someone scratching on paper and tilts his head "Oi, ye are the lad who sat on my foot." He chuckles.
"Any significance in your choice of subject?" The monster sits on Simon's lap and lays against his chest.
"And I'll do it again. Also, thank you for calling me a lad." He opens up a portion of his pack, pulling out a hot tempura porkchop on a plate, which must be held with a thick cloth. He offers it to Sam, along with a fork and knife.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
He shrugs "Art." He rolls up the cloth of his balaclava and stubs out his cigarette on his neck. He closes his eyes and stands up, sighing.
"That's not a good reason." he sighs and starts to get rid of the body
Simon suddenly lands a blade straight through the person's leg, pinning them to the floor with a sickening thud of metal sliding through flesh. "I didn't say you could take it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A tall figure in a green hood is walking through the streets, sticking to the crowds. Every so often, in their wake, someone notices their wallet is missing A young man with curly, dark hair and warm brown skin is tying a horse up outside the inn. An Elle-Woods-lookalike is sitting on a table outside the inn, reading a comic book and sipping one of those coffee drinks that's mostly sugar.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
The blood on the floor begins to boil and churn, and an entity resembling the Saint with his face removed rises from it, crackling with black energy. He's all black and red, and light interacts with him in a concerning way. Colors don't reflect on him, and the shadows cast on him are sharp and pitch black, no gradients. "Nice work." Comes the Starving Dark's warbling voice. It sounds like it's speaking through a fan. "What's the meaning behind this piece?"
Felix sits nearby, eyes closed, silently listening and mentally writing sheet music for Sam's song.
Simon huffs, pulling up his balaclava and stubbing the cigarette out on his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs "Anger let free. Rotting insides of someone."
Sam whips around at the sound of someone scratching on paper and tilts his head "Oi, ye are the lad who sat on my foot." He chuckles.
"Any significance in your choice of subject?" The monster sits on Simon's lap and lays against his chest.
"And I'll do it again. Also, thank you for calling me a lad." He opens up a portion of his pack, pulling out a hot tempura porkchop on a plate, which must be held with a thick cloth. He offers it to Sam, along with a fork and knife.
Simon freezes up as his pupils dilate to pinpoints. He is quiet for a moment, his voice caught in his throat, but he clears it with a cough and tilts his head "He is one of the followers of the old faith.. said (gp) about you." He grumbled under his breath "Thought I should take care of it."
He sighs and rolls his eyes "Yer welcome." He folds his arms and sits down beside him "And no thanks mate, I ain't hungry. Rarely am." He shrugs.
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
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
He shrugs "Art." He rolls up the cloth of his balaclava and stubs out his cigarette on his neck. He closes his eyes and stands up, sighing.
"That's not a good reason." he sighs and starts to get rid of the body
Simon suddenly lands a blade straight through the person's leg, pinning them to the floor with a sickening thud of metal sliding through flesh. "I didn't say you could take it."
"Fine, he can stay until he decomposes."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined. >Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you YESNO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
"Any significance in your choice of subject?" The monster sits on Simon's lap and lays against his chest.
"And I'll do it again. Also, thank you for calling me a lad." He opens up a portion of his pack, pulling out a hot tempura porkchop on a plate, which must be held with a thick cloth. He offers it to Sam, along with a fork and knife.
Simon freezes up as his pupils dilate to pinpoints. He is quiet for a moment, his voice caught in his throat, but he clears it with a cough and tilts his head "He is one of the followers of the old faith.. said (gp) about you." He grumbled under his breath "Thought I should take care of it."
He sighs and rolls his eyes "Yer welcome." He folds his arms and sits down beside him "And no thanks mate, I ain't hungry. Rarely am." He shrugs.
"They either love me or hate me, either way they get the axe eventually." Black tendrils emerge from the entity's face hole, coiling around Simon's shoulders. "I didn't ask you to do this."
He nods, then begins eating the thing himself. "So, what's up? Settling in nicely?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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“Hmph. You’re giving me a place to stay, currently. Once I find a better living situation, I’ll leave.”
My titles are the great Silver Dragon Lord of the Sky, Second in Command of the Dragon Cult, High Warlock of Cynophobia, High Cultist of Jeff, The Lightning Mage. I’m a ✨Chronically online teenage boy✨, and one of the most active posters on the forums (MORE THAN SALEM AND GONZALO). Always open to talk if you’d like to shoot me a PM! Please don’t hesitate to tell me I’m being a jerk or overbearing, I love helpful feedback! Love y’all!
Extended Signature!
*Morning various forms of crime children*
Simon is outside, more so standing in the room of a young man. He is sitting in the corner, in a woven wicker chair, smoking as he watches the final moments of the man's life flicker out before him. He is drenched in blood, his boots, his shirt, even his gloves hands. He looks on edge, his foot nervously tapping as smoke curls around him.
Sam is outside, hauling fish out from the water using his old trawling net. He sings to himself, a song from legends ago his father's had sung to him. A song of a man hunting a ghost ship filled with gold only to be sink under waves by it.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
A breathey exhale comes in to the room, the smoke turning black and shadowy. The smoke whirls around in the center of the room and takes the shape of a man, tall and lanky. He's got short shaggy hair, a grey baggy shirt, and a tired look under his glasses.
He looks at the dying man, frowning.
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
The blood on the floor begins to boil and churn, and an entity resembling the Saint with his face removed rises from it, crackling with black energy. He's all black and red, and light interacts with him in a concerning way. Colors don't reflect on him, and the shadows cast on him are sharp and pitch black, no gradients. "Nice work." Comes the Starving Dark's warbling voice. It sounds like it's speaking through a fan. "What's the meaning behind this piece?"
Felix sits nearby, eyes closed, silently listening and mentally writing sheet music for Sam's song.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Simon narrows his eyes behind his balaclava clad face, his icy blue eyes darkening. "Who are you." He says, an order rather than a question.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"Oh, I'm River." he says, as if that answers their question. "Why'd you kill him?"
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
Simon huffs, pulling up his balaclava and stubbing the cigarette out on his neck. He closes his eyes and sighs "Anger let free. Rotting insides of someone."
Sam whips around at the sound of someone scratching on paper and tilts his head "Oi, ye are the lad who sat on my foot." He chuckles.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He shrugs "Art." He rolls up the cloth of his balaclava and stubs out his cigarette on his neck. He closes his eyes and stands up, sighing.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*My wee plant be doing stuff... Like growing >:3*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Congrats :3*
"That's not a good reason." he sighs and starts to get rid of the body
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
"Not much."
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
"Any significance in your choice of subject?" The monster sits on Simon's lap and lays against his chest.
"And I'll do it again. Also, thank you for calling me a lad." He opens up a portion of his pack, pulling out a hot tempura porkchop on a plate, which must be held with a thick cloth. He offers it to Sam, along with a fork and knife.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Simon suddenly lands a blade straight through the person's leg, pinning them to the floor with a sickening thud of metal sliding through flesh. "I didn't say you could take it."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
A tall figure in a green hood is walking through the streets, sticking to the crowds. Every so often, in their wake, someone notices their wallet is missing
A young man with curly, dark hair and warm brown skin is tying a horse up outside the inn.
An Elle-Woods-lookalike is sitting on a table outside the inn, reading a comic book and sipping one of those coffee drinks that's mostly sugar.
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
Simon freezes up as his pupils dilate to pinpoints. He is quiet for a moment, his voice caught in his throat, but he clears it with a cough and tilts his head "He is one of the followers of the old faith.. said (gp) about you." He grumbled under his breath "Thought I should take care of it."
He sighs and rolls his eyes "Yer welcome." He folds his arms and sits down beside him "And no thanks mate, I ain't hungry. Rarely am." He shrugs.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
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
"Fine, he can stay until he decomposes."
Error. (Traceback) line 1, <Salem> is undefined.
>Attemp <EXTENDED SIG>? Jester Day 5/1... We'll miss you
YES NO I'm on more than Gonzalo and Bananer, trust B)
My Threads: Anytown, USA and Sanctuary [Links]
S♡J
2-13-25
"They either love me or hate me, either way they get the axe eventually." Black tendrils emerge from the entity's face hole, coiling around Simon's shoulders. "I didn't ask you to do this."
He nods, then begins eating the thing himself. "So, what's up? Settling in nicely?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.