He slowly turns to face her, then waves. Eyes and teeth, not in any amount or arrangement comparable to a face, bubble up from the blackness, gnashing and looking around wildly before freezing. "How long has it been, Adeline... since you've been truly cold?" The being tries to cover the hole where its face should be.
The Saint starts moving as if retching, doubling over and clutching his stomach as if retching. The pool of blood beneath him begins to spread and boil as some sort of monster emerges from it, looking very similar to the strugel in the tree, but purely black and red. An eye appears where the faux-Saint's left eye should be as it tilts its head, staring at Helianth.
She jumps back in surprise, before mustering the courage to answer. "...T- ten, eleven winters. I don't know how many Material years that'd be- time is strange in the Feywild. How did you know my name?"
The death angel looks back at it, its curiosity only growing. "Greetings." It starts, hoping that they aren't going to try to kill it. "Would you like help getting down from that tree?" It asks, pointing with a crooked finger to the rope tied around the Saint's foot.
The mouths chitter in glee. "I would be willing to wager that I don't. I don't think that's your real name. Not the one you were given when you were born, that is." The body that seems to hold the darkness begins to thrash, trying to grasp the rope.
The blood saint looks up at the real one, who nods vigorously. The blood creature follows suit. Then the darkness within the hanging Strugel speaks. "Are you still hungry, my sibling?"
She shivers slightly at the memory. "Why does that matter? It's a name I've been given, and it's the name I use." She retorts, much more serious than before.
"Every waking moment of my existence." It answers, cutting the rope keeping the real Saint above the ground, catching him with its roots so he doesn't crash into the ground before setting him down.
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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)
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
The mouths chitter in glee. "I would be willing to wager that I don't. I don't think that's your real name. Not the one you were given when you were born, that is." The body that seems to hold the darkness begins to thrash, trying to grasp the rope.
The blood saint looks up at the real one, who nods vigorously. The blood creature follows suit. Then the darkness within the hanging Strugel speaks. "Are you still hungry, my sibling?"
She shivers slightly at the memory. "Why does that matter? It's a name I've been given, and it's the name I use." She retorts, much more serious than before.
"Every waking moment of my existence." It answers, cutting the rope keeping the real Saint above the ground, catching him with its roots so he doesn't crash into the ground before setting him down.
"Why should we worry ourselves with only things that matter? Surely you've missed a stitch that no one would notice, but still wanted to fix it. Surely you've wept at the sight of a dead animal by the road. It's only human." The Saint freezes, then begins to shake his head. The darkness doesn't care. "Heheheh... when was the last time you felt those things?"
He seems relieved. The fake Saint does a little dance. "I was hoping one of us would have a solution by this point..." the Darkness sighs.
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.
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
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)
The mouths chitter in glee. "I would be willing to wager that I don't. I don't think that's your real name. Not the one you were given when you were born, that is." The body that seems to hold the darkness begins to thrash, trying to grasp the rope.
The blood saint looks up at the real one, who nods vigorously. The blood creature follows suit. Then the darkness within the hanging Strugel speaks. "Are you still hungry, my sibling?"
She shivers slightly at the memory. "Why does that matter? It's a name I've been given, and it's the name I use." She retorts, much more serious than before.
"Every waking moment of my existence." It answers, cutting the rope keeping the real Saint above the ground, catching him with its roots so he doesn't crash into the ground before setting him down.
"Why should we worry ourselves with only things that matter? Surely you've missed a stitch that no one would notice, but still wanted to fix it. Surely you've wept at the sight of a dead animal by the road. It's only human." The Saint freezes, then begins to shake his head. The darkness doesn't care. "Heheheh... when was the last time you felt those things?"
He seems relieved. The fake Saint does a little dance. "I was hoping one of us would have a solution by this point..." the Darkness sighs.
She frowns, thinking back to the most recent times she can remember. "I always put little patterns in things I knit even when I don't need to. Just yesterday I gave a burial to a spider that couldn't avoid the cold. I'm still human, even if not entirely so." She responds, genuinely upset.
"I've been trying to find a solution for ages. I've made progress, but not nearly enough. Maybe a black hole or something like that would be enough." It seems almost ashamed that it couldn't succeed.
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)
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
He leans back and looks around at the world. His world. “There is no place just like it, is there? But all places become just like it for a time. A season.”
"Why should we worry ourselves with only things that matter? Surely you've missed a stitch that no one would notice, but still wanted to fix it. Surely you've wept at the sight of a dead animal by the road. It's only human." The Saint freezes, then begins to shake his head. The darkness doesn't care. "Heheheh... when was the last time you felt those things?"
He seems relieved. The fake Saint does a little dance. "I was hoping one of us would have a solution by this point..." the Darkness sighs.
She frowns, thinking back to the most recent times she can remember. "I always put little patterns in things I knit even when I don't need to. Just yesterday I gave a burial to a spider that couldn't avoid the cold. I'm still human, even if not entirely so." She responds, genuinely upset.
"I've been trying to find a solution for ages. I've made progress, but not nearly enough. Maybe a black hole or something like that would be enough." It seems almost ashamed that it couldn't succeed.
"How nice." The Saint stops struggling and just hangs there. "Hopefully that keeps up."
The little Saint begins digging in the soil, looking for something. The Blood Saint does so as well. "Nope. Tried that. Feeding it just makes it worse, no matter how much matter or energy is absorbed."
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.
"Why should we worry ourselves with only things that matter? Surely you've missed a stitch that no one would notice, but still wanted to fix it. Surely you've wept at the sight of a dead animal by the road. It's only human." The Saint freezes, then begins to shake his head. The darkness doesn't care. "Heheheh... when was the last time you felt those things?"
He seems relieved. The fake Saint does a little dance. "I was hoping one of us would have a solution by this point..." the Darkness sighs.
She frowns, thinking back to the most recent times she can remember. "I always put little patterns in things I knit even when I don't need to. Just yesterday I gave a burial to a spider that couldn't avoid the cold. I'm still human, even if not entirely so." She responds, genuinely upset.
"I've been trying to find a solution for ages. I've made progress, but not nearly enough. Maybe a black hole or something like that would be enough." It seems almost ashamed that it couldn't succeed.
"How nice." The Saint stops struggling and just hangs there. "Hopefully that keeps up."
The little Saint begins digging in the soil, looking for something. The Blood Saint does so as well. "Nope. Tried that. Feeding it just makes it worse, no matter how much matter or energy is absorbed."
*Thank you for your patience.*
"Yes, hopefully it does..." She responds, not seeming fully confident that it will, but she quickly dismisses the thought. "Wait hold on, you still haven't explained how you knew my name."
"It does?... Oh dear, then I've been approaching this from the entirely wrong angle. No wonder it ended up making a terrible beast..." Helianth's roots reach into the soil as well, helping in the search.
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)
"How nice." The Saint stops struggling and just hangs there. "Hopefully that keeps up."
The little Saint begins digging in the soil, looking for something. The Blood Saint does so as well. "Nope. Tried that. Feeding it just makes it worse, no matter how much matter or energy is absorbed."
*Thank you for your patience.*
"Yes, hopefully it does..." She responds, not seeming fully confident that it will, but she quickly dismisses the thought. "Wait hold on, you still haven't explained how you knew my name."
"It does?... Oh dear, then I've been approaching this from the entirely wrong angle. No wonder it ended up making a terrible beast..." Helianth's roots reach into the soil as well, helping in the search.
"Why does that matter?" It parrots back to her. It laughs so loud that the snow begins the shiver into powder.
It finds the severed meat pancake that constitutes this being's face. "How are you not insane yet?" The Saint holds out his paws to take the mask-like flap of bleeding flesh.
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.
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
He leans back and looks around at the world. His world. “There is no place just like it, is there? But all places become just like it for a time. A season.”
She looks around as well, her large dark eyes taking in every detail they can. "I see... though, it seems this place is changing as well." She shivers a bit in the cold.
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)
"How nice." The Saint stops struggling and just hangs there. "Hopefully that keeps up."
The little Saint begins digging in the soil, looking for something. The Blood Saint does so as well. "Nope. Tried that. Feeding it just makes it worse, no matter how much matter or energy is absorbed."
*Thank you for your patience.*
"Yes, hopefully it does..." She responds, not seeming fully confident that it will, but she quickly dismisses the thought. "Wait hold on, you still haven't explained how you knew my name."
"It does?... Oh dear, then I've been approaching this from the entirely wrong angle. No wonder it ended up making a terrible beast..." Helianth's roots reach into the soil as well, helping in the search.
"Why does that matter?" It parrots back to her. It laughs so loud that the snow begins the shiver into powder.
It finds the severed meat pancake that constitutes this being's face. "How are you not insane yet?" The Saint holds out his paws to take the mask-like flap of bleeding flesh.
"...It doesn't." She responds, giving up on trying to get that answer for now. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue. Perhaps it has something to do with the quasi-deities I've eaten... or would that make it worse? That's a question for another time." It hands the Saint back his bleeding face.
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)
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
He leans back and looks around at the world. His world. “There is no place just like it, is there? But all places become just like it for a time. A season.”
She looks around as well, her large dark eyes taking in every detail they can. "I see... though, it seems this place is changing as well." She shivers a bit in the cold.
“It is. Nothing is without change. Not even the Autumn Country.” The cold wind billows his feathery cloak about him. “But soon things will be rectified. Winter may snap at us now but it will be fought back. The world needs this Country, it will not fall.”
"Why does that matter?" It parrots back to her. It laughs so loud that the snow begins the shiver into powder.
It finds the severed meat pancake that constitutes this being's face. "How are you not insane yet?" The Saint holds out his paws to take the mask-like flap of bleeding flesh.
"...It doesn't." She responds, giving up on trying to get that answer for now. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue. Perhaps it has something to do with the quasi-deities I've eaten... or would that make it worse? That's a question for another time." It hands the Saint back his bleeding face.
"Saint Empty, the Starving Dark, it depends on who you're talking to." It assumes a yoga-like pose, still hanging upside-down. "You know, I like this body. It's very cuddly, even if it's weak as (GP)."
"Indeed. I'm going to let you chat with my vessel for now. He's been hanging upside-down without a face for the past... three hours, I wanna say?" He places the face back on and sighs in a completely different voice. "Hey. Do you guys... know each other?"
*I've got DnD soon! Yay!*
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.
The goose feathered shoulder of the King of Autumn can be seen hunched over a form sitting in the dirt deep in the woods.
He can sense the presence of... well, not quite a fey, but something similar. Adeline is sitting under a nearby tree as she takes notes of everything she's seen in the forest.
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
He leans back and looks around at the world. His world. “There is no place just like it, is there? But all places become just like it for a time. A season.”
She looks around as well, her large dark eyes taking in every detail they can. "I see... though, it seems this place is changing as well." She shivers a bit in the cold.
“It is. Nothing is without change. Not even the Autumn Country.” The cold wind billows his feathery cloak about him. “But soon things will be rectified. Winter may snap at us now but it will be fought back. The world needs this Country, it will not fall.”
"That's good- hopefully things will warm up a bit again." She responds, pulling her quilted shawl a bit closer to herself to ward off winter's bite. "Do you know why this is happening?"
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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 does that matter?" It parrots back to her. It laughs so loud that the snow begins the shiver into powder.
It finds the severed meat pancake that constitutes this being's face. "How are you not insane yet?" The Saint holds out his paws to take the mask-like flap of bleeding flesh.
"...It doesn't." She responds, giving up on trying to get that answer for now. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue. Perhaps it has something to do with the quasi-deities I've eaten... or would that make it worse? That's a question for another time." It hands the Saint back his bleeding face.
"Saint Empty, the Starving Dark, it depends on who you're talking to." It assumes a yoga-like pose, still hanging upside-down. "You know, I like this body. It's very cuddly, even if it's weak as (GP)."
"Indeed. I'm going to let you chat with my vessel for now. He's been hanging upside-down without a face for the past... three hours, I wanna say?" He places the face back on and sighs in a completely different voice. "Hey. Do you guys... know each other?"
*I've got DnD soon! Yay!*
*Yay! Have a wonderful time!*
"I see. I'd introduce myself, but you already know who I am, it seems." She responds, sitting down under the tree but not underneath the faceless saint. "How did you end up dangling from a tree?"
"I don't believe so, no." It replies, turning its attention to him. "I am Helianth, Scourge of the Stars and Eater of Gods. Who are you?"
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)
"Saint Empty, the Starving Dark, it depends on who you're talking to." It assumes a yoga-like pose, still hanging upside-down. "You know, I like this body. It's very cuddly, even if it's weak as (GP)."
"Indeed. I'm going to let you chat with my vessel for now. He's been hanging upside-down without a face for the past... three hours, I wanna say?" He places the face back on and sighs in a completely different voice. "Hey. Do you guys... know each other?"
*I've got DnD soon! Yay!*
*Yay! Have a wonderful time!*
"I see. I'd introduce myself, but you already know who I am, it seems." She responds, sitting down under the tree but not underneath the faceless saint. "How did you end up dangling from a tree?"
"I don't believe so, no." It replies, turning its attention to him. "I am Helianth, Scourge of the Stars and Eater of Gods. Who are you?"
He shrugs. "Some sort of hunter. Evidently I'm 'getting in the way.' It's not my fault everything they make is so flammable." He slowly spins while hanging there.
"My name is Saint Empty, and the dude you were just talking to was the Starving Dark. I'm not sure what he is or where he's from, but my family thought he was a god come to save them. That was an incorrect theory, as we burnt their village down together." He waddles closer and places a paw on Helianth. "You're kind of scary."
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.
"Saint Empty, the Starving Dark, it depends on who you're talking to." It assumes a yoga-like pose, still hanging upside-down. "You know, I like this body. It's very cuddly, even if it's weak as (GP)."
"Indeed. I'm going to let you chat with my vessel for now. He's been hanging upside-down without a face for the past... three hours, I wanna say?" He places the face back on and sighs in a completely different voice. "Hey. Do you guys... know each other?"
*I've got DnD soon! Yay!*
*Yay! Have a wonderful time!*
"I see. I'd introduce myself, but you already know who I am, it seems." She responds, sitting down under the tree but not underneath the faceless saint. "How did you end up dangling from a tree?"
"I don't believe so, no." It replies, turning its attention to him. "I am Helianth, Scourge of the Stars and Eater of Gods. Who are you?"
He shrugs. "Some sort of hunter. Evidently I'm 'getting in the way.' It's not my fault everything they make is so flammable." He slowly spins while hanging there.
"My name is Saint Empty, and the dude you were just talking to was the Starving Dark. I'm not sure what he is or where he's from, but my family thought he was a god come to save them. That was an incorrect theory, as we burnt their village down together." He waddles closer and places a paw on Helianth. "You're kind of scary."
"A hunter? They wouldn't happen to have been carrying lots of saw blades around, were they?" She asks, wondering if this hunter is Piecemeal.
"A pleasure to make both your acquaintances." It starts. The god-eater crackles with dim orange flames, which combined with the thorns, make it difficult to place a paw on it without injury. "I've been told I tend to frighten people- then again, most don't often cross paths with elder evils."
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)
He shrugs. "Some sort of hunter. Evidently I'm 'getting in the way.' It's not my fault everything they make is so flammable." He slowly spins while hanging there.
"My name is Saint Empty, and the dude you were just talking to was the Starving Dark. I'm not sure what he is or where he's from, but my family thought he was a god come to save them. That was an incorrect theory, as we burnt their village down together." He waddles closer and places a paw on Helianth. "You're kind of scary."
"A hunter? They wouldn't happen to have been carrying lots of saw blades around, were they?" She asks, wondering if this hunter is Piecemeal.
"A pleasure to make both your acquaintances." It starts. The god-eater crackles with dim orange flames, which combined with the thorns, make it difficult to place a paw on it without injury. "I've been told I tend to frighten people- then again, most don't often cross paths with elder evils."
"They didn't look like it. Don't know where they would carry them." A pair of long arms, crackling with black electricity, begin to reach down and out of the hole where the Strugel's face should be. They are completely black and red, and don't reflect light in the normal way. The shadows on them are like vantablack, and colors from surrounding objects don't reflect on the bare, dripping muscle.
He impales his paw on one of the spikes, oozing black liquid that crackles with black lightning. "Elder evils? What are those?"
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.
He shrugs. "Some sort of hunter. Evidently I'm 'getting in the way.' It's not my fault everything they make is so flammable." He slowly spins while hanging there.
"My name is Saint Empty, and the dude you were just talking to was the Starving Dark. I'm not sure what he is or where he's from, but my family thought he was a god come to save them. That was an incorrect theory, as we burnt their village down together." He waddles closer and places a paw on Helianth. "You're kind of scary."
"A hunter? They wouldn't happen to have been carrying lots of saw blades around, were they?" She asks, wondering if this hunter is Piecemeal.
"A pleasure to make both your acquaintances." It starts. The god-eater crackles with dim orange flames, which combined with the thorns, make it difficult to place a paw on it without injury. "I've been told I tend to frighten people- then again, most don't often cross paths with elder evils."
"They didn't look like it. Don't know where they would carry them." A pair of long arms, crackling with black electricity, begin to reach down and out of the hole where the Strugel's face should be. They are completely black and red, and don't reflect light in the normal way. The shadows on them are like vantablack, and colors from surrounding objects don't reflect on the bare, dripping muscle.
He impales his paw on one of the spikes, oozing black liquid that crackles with black lightning. "Elder evils? What are those?"
Adeline takes a single step back upon seeing the emerging horror, equal parts curious and wondering if she should be running away. "I see... I know a hunter who uses saws often, and was wondering if you'd seen him."
"Powerful aberrations- often villainous ones, as the title would suggest. I wouldn't consider myself evil, and I'm certainly far too young for 'elder' to fit, but I couldn't find a more fitting title." It explains, watching the black blood drip from his impaled paw with curiosity.
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)
"They didn't look like it. Don't know where they would carry them." A pair of long arms, crackling with black electricity, begin to reach down and out of the hole where the Strugel's face should be. They are completely black and red, and don't reflect light in the normal way. The shadows on them are like vantablack, and colors from surrounding objects don't reflect on the bare, dripping muscle.
He impales his paw on one of the spikes, oozing black liquid that crackles with black lightning. "Elder evils? What are those?"
Adeline takes a single step back upon seeing the emerging horror, equal parts curious and wondering if she should be running away. "I see... I know a hunter who uses saws often, and was wondering if you'd seen him."
"Powerful aberrations- often villainous ones, as the title would suggest. I wouldn't consider myself evil, and I'm certainly far too young for 'elder' to fit, but I couldn't find a more fitting title." It explains, watching the black blood drip from his impaled paw with curiosity.
"That little one?" An entire, massively elongated torso lowers town, twisting all the way around, flipping its very humanoid head right-side-up to face her as the Strugel body struggles. The head of the entity looks almost skull-like, with no lips or eyes. It places a hand on the little Saint's shoulder, pushing itself out a bit more before resting an elbow on the ground and propping its chin up on its fist. "He's doing fine. Better than ever, really." It slowly reaches out a long-nailed hand to her. "Cold, isn't it?"
He nods. "I wonder if the Starving Dark is one of those." The black blood is thick, and rich with energy. So hungry it is that it absorbs light instead of emitting it.
She shivers slightly at the memory. "Why does that matter? It's a name I've been given, and it's the name I use." She retorts, much more serious than before.
"Every waking moment of my existence." It answers, cutting the rope keeping the real Saint above the ground, catching him with its roots so he doesn't crash into the ground before setting him down.
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)
He rises and seems to glide over to you. The wind picks up as he approaches. “What are you writing?” He questions.
"Why should we worry ourselves with only things that matter? Surely you've missed a stitch that no one would notice, but still wanted to fix it. Surely you've wept at the sight of a dead animal by the road. It's only human." The Saint freezes, then begins to shake his head. The darkness doesn't care. "Heheheh... when was the last time you felt those things?"
He seems relieved. The fake Saint does a little dance. "I was hoping one of us would have a solution by this point..." the Darkness sighs.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Her moth-like antennae twitch as he approaches, and she looks up from her journal in his direction before she even hears him. "I'm just journaling, is all. This realm is unlike any I've seen before, and I wanted to record everything I saw."
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)
She frowns, thinking back to the most recent times she can remember. "I always put little patterns in things I knit even when I don't need to. Just yesterday I gave a burial to a spider that couldn't avoid the cold. I'm still human, even if not entirely so." She responds, genuinely upset.
"I've been trying to find a solution for ages. I've made progress, but not nearly enough. Maybe a black hole or something like that would be enough." It seems almost ashamed that it couldn't succeed.
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)
He leans back and looks around at the world. His world. “There is no place just like it, is there? But all places become just like it for a time. A season.”
"How nice." The Saint stops struggling and just hangs there. "Hopefully that keeps up."
The little Saint begins digging in the soil, looking for something. The Blood Saint does so as well. "Nope. Tried that. Feeding it just makes it worse, no matter how much matter or energy is absorbed."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Thank you for your patience.*
"Yes, hopefully it does..." She responds, not seeming fully confident that it will, but she quickly dismisses the thought. "Wait hold on, you still haven't explained how you knew my name."
"It does?... Oh dear, then I've been approaching this from the entirely wrong angle. No wonder it ended up making a terrible beast..." Helianth's roots reach into the soil as well, helping in the search.
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 does that matter?" It parrots back to her. It laughs so loud that the snow begins the shiver into powder.
It finds the severed meat pancake that constitutes this being's face. "How are you not insane yet?" The Saint holds out his paws to take the mask-like flap of bleeding flesh.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She looks around as well, her large dark eyes taking in every detail they can. "I see... though, it seems this place is changing as well." She shivers a bit in the cold.
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)
"...It doesn't." She responds, giving up on trying to get that answer for now. "Who are you, anyway?"
"Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue. Perhaps it has something to do with the quasi-deities I've eaten... or would that make it worse? That's a question for another time." It hands the Saint back his bleeding face.
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)
“It is. Nothing is without change. Not even the Autumn Country.” The cold wind billows his feathery cloak about him. “But soon things will be rectified. Winter may snap at us now but it will be fought back. The world needs this Country, it will not fall.”
"Saint Empty, the Starving Dark, it depends on who you're talking to." It assumes a yoga-like pose, still hanging upside-down. "You know, I like this body. It's very cuddly, even if it's weak as (GP)."
"Indeed. I'm going to let you chat with my vessel for now. He's been hanging upside-down without a face for the past... three hours, I wanna say?" He places the face back on and sighs in a completely different voice. "Hey. Do you guys... know each other?"
*I've got DnD soon! Yay!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"That's good- hopefully things will warm up a bit again." She responds, pulling her quilted shawl a bit closer to herself to ward off winter's bite. "Do you know why this is happening?"
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)
*Yay! Have a wonderful time!*
"I see. I'd introduce myself, but you already know who I am, it seems." She responds, sitting down under the tree but not underneath the faceless saint. "How did you end up dangling from a tree?"
"I don't believe so, no." It replies, turning its attention to him. "I am Helianth, Scourge of the Stars and Eater of Gods. Who are you?"
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)
He shrugs. "Some sort of hunter. Evidently I'm 'getting in the way.' It's not my fault everything they make is so flammable." He slowly spins while hanging there.
"My name is Saint Empty, and the dude you were just talking to was the Starving Dark. I'm not sure what he is or where he's from, but my family thought he was a god come to save them. That was an incorrect theory, as we burnt their village down together." He waddles closer and places a paw on Helianth. "You're kind of scary."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"A hunter? They wouldn't happen to have been carrying lots of saw blades around, were they?" She asks, wondering if this hunter is Piecemeal.
"A pleasure to make both your acquaintances." It starts. The god-eater crackles with dim orange flames, which combined with the thorns, make it difficult to place a paw on it without injury. "I've been told I tend to frighten people- then again, most don't often cross paths with elder evils."
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)
"They didn't look like it. Don't know where they would carry them." A pair of long arms, crackling with black electricity, begin to reach down and out of the hole where the Strugel's face should be. They are completely black and red, and don't reflect light in the normal way. The shadows on them are like vantablack, and colors from surrounding objects don't reflect on the bare, dripping muscle.
He impales his paw on one of the spikes, oozing black liquid that crackles with black lightning. "Elder evils? What are those?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Adeline takes a single step back upon seeing the emerging horror, equal parts curious and wondering if she should be running away. "I see... I know a hunter who uses saws often, and was wondering if you'd seen him."
"Powerful aberrations- often villainous ones, as the title would suggest. I wouldn't consider myself evil, and I'm certainly far too young for 'elder' to fit, but I couldn't find a more fitting title." It explains, watching the black blood drip from his impaled paw with curiosity.
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)
"That little one?" An entire, massively elongated torso lowers town, twisting all the way around, flipping its very humanoid head right-side-up to face her as the Strugel body struggles. The head of the entity looks almost skull-like, with no lips or eyes. It places a hand on the little Saint's shoulder, pushing itself out a bit more before resting an elbow on the ground and propping its chin up on its fist. "He's doing fine. Better than ever, really." It slowly reaches out a long-nailed hand to her. "Cold, isn't it?"
He nods. "I wonder if the Starving Dark is one of those." The black blood is thick, and rich with energy. So hungry it is that it absorbs light instead of emitting it.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.