*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?*
*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
"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."
"I... friend?" They seem confused by the word, likely more the usage rather than the meaning, as to know a word and to hear that word are different "I... I am Bluebell, nice to meet you."
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…*
*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?*
"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."
"I... friend?" They seem confused by the word, likely more the usage rather than the meaning, as to know a word and to hear that word are different "I... I am Bluebell, nice to meet you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
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…*
*hello, darlings!*
*Hello Arch! How doth thee fare today?*
*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
WINTER IS COMING
*That's wonderful indeed! That you're feeling great, I mean- the ghouls being close to catching the Barley King is pretty terrible for almost everyone, actually.*
*Between that, and the Ravenous Flame, and Ghoulianth & Amina's scheming... things are going to go downhill very quickly...*
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 ghouls skitter and scrabble and squabble and slither and slide and creep and crawl and cripple and crouch and cry and climb and bounce and bumble and bound and boil and blunder and bubble and bend and break all throughout the hollers of this fine, fair, ferocious Autumn Country.
One particular ghoul slinks through the shadows with a wet look of hunger writhing in his tiny, dark eyes. His face is round and chubby and completely out of place on his slender, skeletal body. He moves like a carrion eating spider over a fallen tree trunk on all fours and he only stops to adjust the small, yellow, paper crown he wears on his head.
*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?*
*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
WINTER IS COMING
*That's wonderful indeed! That you're feeling great, I mean- the ghouls being close to catching the Barley King is pretty terrible for almost everyone, actually.*
*Between that, and the Ravenous Flame, and Ghoulianth & Amina's scheming... things are going to go downhill very quickly...*
*this will simply be deliciously diabolical…*
*the cultists will be sent into a state of panic- this hasn’t happened before*
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
"Are there more? Of me? Of the spring folk?" He leans closer with an eager, thirsty expression, "Are you of Spring?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
"Are there more? Of me? Of the spring folk?" He leans closer with an eager, thirsty expression, "Are you of Spring?"
They think for a moment, closing their eyes and rocking in that cradled position before opening them again "I... think I am... but I have no knowledge of any others."
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.'
The ghouls skitter and scrabble and squabble and slither and slide and creep and crawl and cripple and crouch and cry and climb and bounce and bumble and bound and boil and blunder and bubble and bend and break all throughout the hollers of this fine, fair, ferocious Autumn Country.
One particular ghoul slinks through the shadows with a wet look of hunger writhing in his tiny, dark eyes. His face is round and chubby and completely out of place on his slender, skeletal body. He moves like a carrion eating spider over a fallen tree trunk on all fours and he only stops to adjust the small, yellow, paper crown he wears on his head.
This ghoul, in its search, suddenly finds tiny tracks. Hoofprints. They weave their way throughout a graveyard, though they occasionally disappear before reappearing elsewhere, or split off into two different sets of the same tracks, though one of them stops quickly after, probably a trick of the lamb god. It’s getting closer, and closer, and closer… the ghoul can smell it.
*the destruction of the Spring court is such an interesting concept. I wonder if something could happen related to that if the Barley King is kept alive long enough for it to turn to spring…*
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
"Are there more? Of me? Of the spring folk?" He leans closer with an eager, thirsty expression, "Are you of Spring?"
They think for a moment, closing their eyes and rocking in that cradled position before opening them again "I... think I am... but I have no knowledge of any others."
A single tear wells in the April Fish's eye. It slides down his cheek and falls upon the dry grass of the ground. A tiny, gloriously green sprig sprouts where it lands and a purple blossom pops up on its head. A single blue painted tear has appeared on his white colored face. "I do now... of one... you. It's been so long since I've seen another of my kind. I've been a fish out of water for so long. But now I've found another fluttering fish in the sky with me."
*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
WINTER IS COMING
*That's wonderful indeed! That you're feeling great, I mean- the ghouls being close to catching the Barley King is pretty terrible for almost everyone, actually.*
*Between that, and the Ravenous Flame, and Ghoulianth & Amina's scheming... things are going to go downhill very quickly...*
*this will simply be deliciously diabolical…*
*the cultists will be sent into a state of panic- this hasn’t happened before*
*Indeed- I'm sure the villains will find a way to exploit their panic...*
*Would you like to rp with some of my characters, perchance? If so, which ones?*
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)
*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
WINTER IS COMING
*That's wonderful indeed! That you're feeling great, I mean- the ghouls being close to catching the Barley King is pretty terrible for almost everyone, actually.*
*Between that, and the Ravenous Flame, and Ghoulianth & Amina's scheming... things are going to go downhill very quickly...*
*this will simply be deliciously diabolical…*
*the cultists will be sent into a state of panic- this hasn’t happened before*
*Indeed- I'm sure the villains will find a way to exploit their panic...*
*Would you like to rp with some of my characters, perchance? If so, which ones?*
*I’d like to try Adeline, either with Julius or Mother Moth, your choice!*
The ghouls skitter and scrabble and squabble and slither and slide and creep and crawl and cripple and crouch and cry and climb and bounce and bumble and bound and boil and blunder and bubble and bend and break all throughout the hollers of this fine, fair, ferocious Autumn Country.
One particular ghoul slinks through the shadows with a wet look of hunger writhing in his tiny, dark eyes. His face is round and chubby and completely out of place on his slender, skeletal body. He moves like a carrion eating spider over a fallen tree trunk on all fours and he only stops to adjust the small, yellow, paper crown he wears on his head.
This ghoul, in its search, suddenly finds tiny tracks. Hoofprints. They weave their way throughout a graveyard, though they occasionally disappear before reappearing elsewhere, or split off into two different sets of the same tracks, though one of them stops quickly after, probably a trick of the lamb god. It’s getting closer, and closer, and closer… the ghoul can smell it.
The ghoul crawls, his fat face close to the ground. He presses his finger tips into each hoof print. He jumps atop a gravestone and beckons over two other ghouls who join him in his pursuit.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
"Are there more? Of me? Of the spring folk?" He leans closer with an eager, thirsty expression, "Are you of Spring?"
They think for a moment, closing their eyes and rocking in that cradled position before opening them again "I... think I am... but I have no knowledge of any others."
A single tear wells in the April Fish's eye. It slides down his cheek and falls upon the dry grass of the ground. A tiny, gloriously green sprig sprouts where it lands and a purple blossom pops up on its head. A single blue painted tear has appeared on his white colored face. "I do now... of one... you. It's been so long since I've seen another of my kind. I've been a fish out of water for so long. But now I've found another fluttering fish in the sky with me."
They tilt their head farther, it would have snapped on a regular person quite some time before this, practically looking upside down now as if they were completely hollow "I... you haven't? Are we... alone in this existence...? Are we the only remaining of our kind?" They ask, rubbing their gloved hands together nervously as their head snaps back into the correct place, worried and confused.
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.'
*the destruction of the Spring court is such an interesting concept. I wonder if something could happen related to that if the Barley King is kept alive long enough for it to turn to spring…*
*That would be really cool. There does seem to be some potential there.*
*the destruction of the Spring court is such an interesting concept. I wonder if something could happen related to that if the Barley King is kept alive long enough for it to turn to spring…*
*That would be really cool. There does seem to be some potential there.*
*the cultists will be sent into a state of panic- this hasn’t happened before*
*Indeed- I'm sure the villains will find a way to exploit their panic...*
*Would you like to rp with some of my characters, perchance? If so, which ones?*
*I’d like to try Adeline, either with Julius or Mother Moth, your choice!*
*Let's go with... Mother Moth! Here ya go!*
Adeline is sitting on a tree stump in a quiet part of the forest, wrapped up in a quilted blanket of her own design as she updates her journal- a small book filled with writings of everything she's seen in the Autumn Country so far- making new entries with a charcoal pencil. A large number of spiders can be seen skittering about under the blanket, seeking refuge from 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)
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*simply wonderful, feeling energetic! The ghouls might be close to catching the Barley King.*
WINTER IS COMING
"I... friend?" They seem confused by the word, likely more the usage rather than the meaning, as to know a word and to hear that word are different "I... I am Bluebell, nice to meet you."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*we could do roleplay if you’re up to it!*
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bluebell." A strange, far-away look swims in his eyes, "Would your miraculous mind know the answer to my question?"
They tilt their head, the petals on their neck fluttering gently in the breeze "What uh... what would you question be?... I don't think I'm omniscient... so you would have to ask..."
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.)
*That's wonderful indeed! That you're feeling great, I mean- the ghouls being close to catching the Barley King is pretty terrible for almost everyone, actually.*
*Between that, and the Ravenous Flame, and Ghoulianth & Amina's scheming... things are going to go downhill very quickly...*
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)
*Now would be a great time.*
The ghouls skitter and scrabble and squabble and slither and slide and creep and crawl and cripple and crouch and cry and climb and bounce and bumble and bound and boil and blunder and bubble and bend and break all throughout the hollers of this fine, fair, ferocious Autumn Country.
One particular ghoul slinks through the shadows with a wet look of hunger writhing in his tiny, dark eyes. His face is round and chubby and completely out of place on his slender, skeletal body. He moves like a carrion eating spider over a fallen tree trunk on all fours and he only stops to adjust the small, yellow, paper crown he wears on his head.
*this will simply be deliciously diabolical…*
*the cultists will be sent into a state of panic- this hasn’t happened before*
"Are there more? Of me? Of the spring folk?" He leans closer with an eager, thirsty expression, "Are you of Spring?"
They think for a moment, closing their eyes and rocking in that cradled position before opening them again "I... think I am... but I have no knowledge of any others."
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.)
This ghoul, in its search, suddenly finds tiny tracks. Hoofprints. They weave their way throughout a graveyard, though they occasionally disappear before reappearing elsewhere, or split off into two different sets of the same tracks, though one of them stops quickly after, probably a trick of the lamb god. It’s getting closer, and closer, and closer… the ghoul can smell it.
*the destruction of the Spring court is such an interesting concept. I wonder if something could happen related to that if the Barley King is kept alive long enough for it to turn to spring…*
A single tear wells in the April Fish's eye. It slides down his cheek and falls upon the dry grass of the ground. A tiny, gloriously green sprig sprouts where it lands and a purple blossom pops up on its head. A single blue painted tear has appeared on his white colored face. "I do now... of one... you. It's been so long since I've seen another of my kind. I've been a fish out of water for so long. But now I've found another fluttering fish in the sky with me."
*Indeed- I'm sure the villains will find a way to exploit their panic...*
*Would you like to rp with some of my characters, perchance? If so, which ones?*
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)
*I’d like to try Adeline, either with Julius or Mother Moth, your choice!*
The ghoul crawls, his fat face close to the ground. He presses his finger tips into each hoof print. He jumps atop a gravestone and beckons over two other ghouls who join him in his pursuit.
They tilt their head farther, it would have snapped on a regular person quite some time before this, practically looking upside down now as if they were completely hollow "I... you haven't? Are we... alone in this existence...? Are we the only remaining of our kind?" They ask, rubbing their gloved hands together nervously as their head snaps back into the correct place, worried and confused.
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.)
*That would be really cool. There does seem to be some potential there.*
*and Spring is the season of rebirth, after all…*
*Let's go with... Mother Moth! Here ya go!*
Adeline is sitting on a tree stump in a quiet part of the forest, wrapped up in a quilted blanket of her own design as she updates her journal- a small book filled with writings of everything she's seen in the Autumn Country so far- making new entries with a charcoal pencil. A large number of spiders can be seen skittering about under the blanket, seeking refuge from 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)