Humanity, such an interesting concept, isn't it? To be human, you aren't required to be human, you aren't required to do much, and even in that there are some that are considered unable to be human, who in terms of species, are human. Humanity is much more an idea, a concept of what is deemed right by the world, by others, by their perspectives much less than one's own. Such an interesting concept indeed.
Somewhere in the Autumn country, something finds itself coming into existence. Among a field of flowers, yet to bloom, sits a single Bluebell, it's petals a bright and beautiful contrast to everything else around it, in a land such as this, something like that existing is an utterly bizarre phenomenon. The flower begins to grow as it bobs in the wind, shape changing. Its stem becoming the immistakable body of a human, though the flowery head remains the same, only growing in size. Clothes form on the being like they were simply of their skin to begin with, growing to become what appears to be an anachronistic display of a detective, improved beyond anything seen yet, the blossomed flower turning back to a bud as the body sits down in the middle of the field, their new trench coat moving in tandem with the flowers affected by the breeze. They curl their new legs against their chest, holding them there with their arms.
Whatever this is, it couldn't be mistaken for human.
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
Humanity, such an interesting concept, isn't it? To be human, you aren't required to be human, you aren't required to do much, and even in that there are some that are considered unable to be human, who in terms of species, are human. Humanity is much more an idea, a concept of what is deemed right by the world, by others, by their perspectives much less than one's own. Such an interesting concept indeed.
Somewhere in the Autumn country, something finds itself coming into existence. Among a field of flowers, yet to bloom, sits a single Bluebell, it's petals a bright and beautiful contrast to everything else around it, in a land such as this, something like that existing is an utterly bizarre phenomenon. The flower begins to grow as it bobs in the wind, shape changing. Its stem becoming the immistakable body of a human, though the flowery head remains the same, only growing in size. Clothes form on the being like they were simply of their skin to begin with, growing to become what appears to be an anachronistic display of a detective, improved beyond anything seen yet, the blossomed flower turning back to a bud as the body sits down in the middle of the field, their new trench coat moving in tandem with the flowers affected by the breeze. They curl their new legs against their chest, holding them there with their arms.
Whatever this is, it couldn't be mistaken for human.
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
"What do you do?
In April, I open my bill In May, I sing night and day In June, I change my tune In July, far off I fly In August, away I must..."
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
"What do you do?
In April, I open my bill In May, I sing night and day In June, I change my tune In July, far off I fly In August, away I must..."
The flowery head turns without the body making any movement, seemingly continuing to focus on the fish, a wet sound occurring as the head spins to face the singer. The flowers around them change their pace, bobbing and swaying along with their tune as if they can hear, if they could all hear.
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.'
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
"What do you do?
In April, I open my bill In May, I sing night and day In June, I change my tune In July, far off I fly In August, away I must..."
The flowery head turns without the body making any movement, seemingly continuing to focus on the fish, a wet sound occurring as the head spins to face the singer. The flowers around them change their pace, bobbing and swaying along with their tune as if they can hear, if they could all hear.
A clown in a baggy green suit with flowers for buttons approaches. His head is nestled in a yellow, dandelion ruff. "A flower? In the Autumn Country? You're not one of the sun eating ones, are you?"
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
"What do you do?
In April, I open my bill In May, I sing night and day In June, I change my tune In July, far off I fly In August, away I must..."
The flowery head turns without the body making any movement, seemingly continuing to focus on the fish, a wet sound occurring as the head spins to face the singer. The flowers around them change their pace, bobbing and swaying along with their tune as if they can hear, if they could all hear.
A clown in a baggy green suit with flowers for buttons approaches. His head is nestled in a yellow, dandelion ruff. "A flower? In the Autumn Country? You're not one of the sun eating ones, are you?"
Upon noticing the form of the clown, the April Fool, the flower bud unfolds, revealing a head within, one that couldn't have been there before, the petals sitting at his neck as he gives a weak smile "I... I think I need sun... I wonder how it would taste..." Their voice seems developed, strangely enough.
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.'
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
"What do you do?
In April, I open my bill In May, I sing night and day In June, I change my tune In July, far off I fly In August, away I must..."
The flowery head turns without the body making any movement, seemingly continuing to focus on the fish, a wet sound occurring as the head spins to face the singer. The flowers around them change their pace, bobbing and swaying along with their tune as if they can hear, if they could all hear.
A clown in a baggy green suit with flowers for buttons approaches. His head is nestled in a yellow, dandelion ruff. "A flower? In the Autumn Country? You're not one of the sun eating ones, are you?"
Upon noticing the form of the clown, the April Fool, the flower bud unfolds, revealing a head within, one that couldn't have been there before, the petals sitting at his neck as he gives a weak smile "I... I think I need sun... I wonder how it would taste..." Their voice seems developed, strangely enough.
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"I... don't know... I feel as if I were just born, yet I know more of the world than I could ever hope to in a thousand lifetimes... my existence new, yet as if I have always been." He blinks, the look of confusion now evident.
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.'
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"I... don't know... I feel as if I were just born, yet I know more of the world than I could ever hope to in a thousand lifetimes... my existence new, yet as if I have always been." He blinks, the look of confusion now evident.
The April Fool crouches down, "What do you know?" The fluttering fish darts to the jester and disappears inside his petal-ruffed sleeve.
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"I... don't know... I feel as if I were just born, yet I know more of the world than I could ever hope to in a thousand lifetimes... my existence new, yet as if I have always been." He blinks, the look of confusion now evident.
The April Fool crouches down, "What do you know?" The fluttering fish darts to the jester and disappears inside his petal-ruffed sleeve.
The body turns with the head, crunching back into place as they point to the April Fool "You are the April Fool... I am in Autumn Country... there was a battle recently, between Atticus the archmage and Helianth the elder evil."
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.'
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Heya, I introed a new person. How you doin' buddy? Love the song Animal Cannibal.*
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Heya, I introed a new person. How you doin' buddy? Love the song Animal Cannibal.*
*I’m doing great! Feeling really energetic today*
*i think that by now, someone will have caught the Barley king. The Ghouls, probably, which is, uh, Bad for the Autumn Court. Really bad*
There's a moment where he says nothing. The leaves where he stands move up and down. Is he jumping in place?
"Deal."
Her senses are distorted again, but this time more intense. She can barely see anything but the glowing parts. In the darkness surrounding her, she can see something clearly, and in full color: the demon himself. CRAVEBOIL is an emaciated giant with a frame closest compared to a hunchbacked gorilla and a face like a malformed blobfish.
He is crouched, seemingly because it is the most comfortable position for him, on his almost comically small legs, comparable to a normal humanoid's. Even still he stands almost nine feet tall. His oversized hands rest on his knees, connected to his long, long skinny arms in a way that makes it look like they'd break off if he swung them around too fast. His face... oh, his face... His eyes are massive and dilated, surrounded by wrinkles and liver spots. His fat nose hangs in front of his 'mouth,' as if it could even be called that. What he has is a row of exposed teeth, each individual one human in some capacity, but he has no lower jaw. Instead, he has two little arms that dangle where his jaw should connect. Atop that round, monstrous face is a mullet of greasy, black hair.
He wears a suit, oversized even for him, splattered with dried gore and sauces, as well as a perfectly clean bib with the 'shoku' kanji on it. Surrounding him is an aura of pure malediction, a force that would rot the world were it not so well-contained within the spirit. The ground is littered with bones that don't seem to exist on her level of reality.
She feels like her magic has grown stronger by a power of ten; as if she could heal the world of its innumerable ailments. She now has a better understanding of the monstrous entity inside her: it is a filter for dark forces, collecting them and feeding off them while leaving the rest of the world unharmed.
"Thank you, miss Adeline. Now, I don't wish to wrest control from you, but please, eat."
For a second, Adeline is sent reeling from the sudden change of her senses and sudden influx of magical strength, almost falling over before quickly finding her balance again. She looks down at the Goodberries she conjured- absolutely gleaming through the senses of Craveboil- and eats all ten, one by one. Under normal circumstances, this would make a person violently ill- though with the combination of Craveboil's hunger and Adeline's regular exposure to fey magic, it doesn't seem to harm her in the least.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"I... don't know... I feel as if I were just born, yet I know more of the world than I could ever hope to in a thousand lifetimes... my existence new, yet as if I have always been." He blinks, the look of confusion now evident.
The April Fool crouches down, "What do you know?" The fluttering fish darts to the jester and disappears inside his petal-ruffed sleeve.
The body turns with the head, crunching back into place as they point to the April Fool "You are the April Fool... I am in Autumn Country... there was a battle recently, between Atticus the archmage and Helianth the elder evil."
His eyes widen, an expression that is accentuated by his faceprint, "Wow! You have me at a disadvantage friend. You seem to know me, but I don't know you."
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Hello Arch! How doth thee fare today?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Heya, I introed a new person. How you doin' buddy? Love the song Animal Cannibal.*
*I’m doing great! Feeling really energetic today*
*i think that by now, someone will have caught the Barley king. The Ghouls, probably, which is, uh, Bad for the Autumn Court. Really bad*
*How should that play out? The catching of the Barley King. Through role-play? Or if the ghouls have caught it then should one of us write up a sort of announcement post thing?*
You feel a few splatterings of rain. Something silvery and soft darts out from behind the leaves of a flower. It takes a second to register what it is since it feels so terribly out of place. A long, streamlined, smooth body of a glittering fish hovers in the air, held aloft by softly fluttering, feathered wings. It approaches you with curiosity.
It holds out a hand to feel the rain before noticing the fish before them. It seems to move it's flower bud head, though it's incapable of sight from what can be seen, tilting it's head as it reaches out to poke at the flying fish, seemingly curious though it lacks a face to show that curiosity on.
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.)
*appears behind dark with a sack if c4 and says Kaboom?*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
The fish darts a few feet away at your movement. But then it drifts closer to you before nibbling at your finger. Footsteps sound from behind you. Someone is approaching. Someone singing a song. Someone singing this song...
In May, I sing night and day
In June, I change my tune
In July, far off I fly
In August, away
I must..."
*Oh thanks for bringing me lunch. I left my monster truck lunch box full of c4 at home.*
The flowery head turns without the body making any movement, seemingly continuing to focus on the fish, a wet sound occurring as the head spins to face the singer. The flowers around them change their pace, bobbing and swaying along with their tune as if they can hear, if they could all hear.
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.)
A clown in a baggy green suit with flowers for buttons approaches. His head is nestled in a yellow, dandelion ruff. "A flower? In the Autumn Country? You're not one of the sun eating ones, are you?"
Upon noticing the form of the clown, the April Fool, the flower bud unfolds, revealing a head within, one that couldn't have been there before, the petals sitting at his neck as he gives a weak smile "I... I think I need sun... I wonder how it would taste..." Their voice seems developed, strangely enough.
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.)
"Unfortunately, the sun here's phony. Most folks here aren't fans of vitamin D. They like their soft and smooth shadows instead." His eyes narrow, "What is a bloom like you doing in a room like here?"
"I... don't know... I feel as if I were just born, yet I know more of the world than I could ever hope to in a thousand lifetimes... my existence new, yet as if I have always been." He blinks, the look of confusion now evident.
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 April Fool crouches down, "What do you know?" The fluttering fish darts to the jester and disappears inside his petal-ruffed sleeve.
The body turns with the head, crunching back into place as they point to the April Fool "You are the April Fool... I am in Autumn Country... there was a battle recently, between Atticus the archmage and Helianth the elder evil."
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.)
*why do I always meet the strangest men, they always seem to find me… remember that time, way back when I, kissed a guy who ate his women friends… now only dogs will follow me. Is he following?… i bite at the hand that feeds me, slap at the face that eats me, some kind of animal cannibal, made impressions on me…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Heya, I introed a new person. How you doin' buddy? Love the song Animal Cannibal.*
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.)
*I’m doing great! Feeling really energetic today*
*i think that by now, someone will have caught the Barley king. The Ghouls, probably, which is, uh, Bad for the Autumn Court. Really bad*
For a second, Adeline is sent reeling from the sudden change of her senses and sudden influx of magical strength, almost falling over before quickly finding her balance again. She looks down at the Goodberries she conjured- absolutely gleaming through the senses of Craveboil- and eats all ten, one by one. Under normal circumstances, this would make a person violently ill- though with the combination of Craveboil's hunger and Adeline's regular exposure to fey magic, it doesn't seem to harm her in the least.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
His eyes widen, an expression that is accentuated by his faceprint, "Wow! You have me at a disadvantage friend. You seem to know me, but I don't know you."
*I love when things go badly, good to hear you're doing good. I wanna see what happens when the autumn court goes sour!*
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 Arch! How doth thee fare today?*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*How should that play out? The catching of the Barley King. Through role-play? Or if the ghouls have caught it then should one of us write up a sort of announcement post thing?*