"You're not lost, are you?" It takes a step forward, its legs shaking like it's about to fall.
"No." he gazes at the shaking legs. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, child. I am simply... tired. I haven't had a place to rest my bones in a while. Even a couple days of tending shrines will wear you out if you don't rest."
He offers his hand to the creature. "Please, sit. Rest."
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
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 name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"You're not lost, are you?" It takes a step forward, its legs shaking like it's about to fall.
"No." he gazes at the shaking legs. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, child. I am simply... tired. I haven't had a place to rest my bones in a while. Even a couple days of tending shrines will wear you out if you don't rest."
He offers his hand to the creature. "Please, sit. Rest."
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"The name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
"You're not lost, are you?" It takes a step forward, its legs shaking like it's about to fall.
"No." he gazes at the shaking legs. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, child. I am simply... tired. I haven't had a place to rest my bones in a while. Even a couple days of tending shrines will wear you out if you don't rest."
He offers his hand to the creature. "Please, sit. Rest."
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
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.
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
"The name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"You're not lost, are you?" It takes a step forward, its legs shaking like it's about to fall.
"No." he gazes at the shaking legs. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, child. I am simply... tired. I haven't had a place to rest my bones in a while. Even a couple days of tending shrines will wear you out if you don't rest."
He offers his hand to the creature. "Please, sit. Rest."
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
*All good!*
"Sometimes It is." It draws a holy symbol of some unknown religion and begins to raise it up. It starts to glow with golden light, and the spectral appearance of some sort of... towering abomination of an angel appears behind the darkbeast, the angel's arms wrapped around the beast's neck. The angel looks down at the human before the light fades and it becomes invisible again.
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
*All good!*
"Sometimes It is." It draws a holy symbol of some unknown religion and begins to raise it up. It starts to glow with golden light, and the spectral appearance of some sort of... towering abomination of an angel appears behind the darkbeast, the angel's arms wrapped around the beast's neck. The angel looks down at the human before the light fades and it becomes invisible again.
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
"The name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
He laughs and goes back to his rose bush
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
*All good!*
"Sometimes It is." It draws a holy symbol of some unknown religion and begins to raise it up. It starts to glow with golden light, and the spectral appearance of some sort of... towering abomination of an angel appears behind the darkbeast, the angel's arms wrapped around the beast's neck. The angel looks down at the human before the light fades and it becomes invisible again.
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
"My guardian angel. It won't hurt you... usually." The beast begins to close its dark eyes and weakly clasps its hands. "Now... I lay me down to sleep... I pray... my soul..." It falls to its side, sliding off the rock. The young man can see from the movements of the bones and grass that the angel is still there, and is unwrapping its arms from around the undead.
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 name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
He laughs and goes back to his rose bush
He then walks closer to the ghost, tilting his head slightly
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
*All good!*
"Sometimes It is." It draws a holy symbol of some unknown religion and begins to raise it up. It starts to glow with golden light, and the spectral appearance of some sort of... towering abomination of an angel appears behind the darkbeast, the angel's arms wrapped around the beast's neck. The angel looks down at the human before the light fades and it becomes invisible again.
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
"My guardian angel. It won't hurt you... usually." The beast begins to close its dark eyes and weakly clasps its hands. "Now... I lay me down to sleep... I pray... my soul..." It falls to its side, sliding off the rock. The young man can see from the movements of the bones and grass that the angel is still there, and is unwrapping its arms from around the undead.
Apollon grips something inside his satchel, preparing for the worst.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"The name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
He laughs and goes back to his rose bush
He then walks closer to the ghost, tilting his head slightly
She does the same
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
"My guardian angel. It won't hurt you... usually." The beast begins to close its dark eyes and weakly clasps its hands. "Now... I lay me down to sleep... I pray... my soul..." It falls to its side, sliding off the rock. The young man can see from the movements of the bones and grass that the angel is still there, and is unwrapping its arms from around the undead.
Apollon grips something inside his satchel, preparing for the worst.
There are no footprints in the grass, but in his fear, his senses are hyper-charged. He knows that it's here, drifting through the air like some sort of divine jellyfish. Just as he manages to possible get a bead on where it is, he feels it right behind him, its tendrils drifting against his skin. "Be not afeard, little culver..." comes a gentle whisper, as though all the pleasantness the beast's voice had lacked had been poured into the angel's.
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 name's Flint Parish. I'm the grim of this boneyard."
"Pleasure. My names Apollon Vargrass."
"So, Apollo, what brings you to visit mah graveyard?" Behind him, a ghost rises from a grave and tries to get a better look at the visitor
"Just passing through." he says, eyeing the spirit.
Flint looks over his shoulder at the specter. "Ah. She's harmless. Adrienne Horne's er name, If I'm not mistaken." The ghost nods. She looks to be a youngish woman, with wavy dull blond hair neatly braided, and brown eyes.
Apollon fidgets with a few protective talismans around his neck. "I see..."
"Just one of the more curious folk. Nothin' to be scared of, laddie." his tail wags slightly
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
He laughs and goes back to his rose bush
He then walks closer to the ghost, tilting his head slightly
She does the same
*do you mind cutting. I’m on mobile ;-;*
He waves his hand
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
"My guardian angel. It won't hurt you... usually." The beast begins to close its dark eyes and weakly clasps its hands. "Now... I lay me down to sleep... I pray... my soul..." It falls to its side, sliding off the rock. The young man can see from the movements of the bones and grass that the angel is still there, and is unwrapping its arms from around the undead.
Apollon grips something inside his satchel, preparing for the worst.
There are no footprints in the grass, but in his fear, his senses are hyper-charged. He knows that it's here, drifting through the air like some sort of divine jellyfish. Just as he manages to possible get a bead on where it is, he feels it right behind him, its tendrils drifting against his skin. "Be not afeard, little culver..." comes a gentle whisper, as though all the pleasantness the beast's voice had lacked had been poured into the angel's.
*do you mind cutting? I’m on mobile ;-;*
As soon as it touches him, a thin protective barrier appears. One of his talismans around his neck is now glowing
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
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It looks like it is about to deny the assistance, but then it nearly falls over. It makes a pained, strangled gasp as its leg twists unnaturally beneath it. It takes his hand with its good claw. A warm radiance flows through the being's body and hand wraps. "T-thank you, child. No, I shouldn't call you that. I'm not even officially ordained as a priest, and you're probably older than me anyway." It shakily sits down on a rock.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"There is always something to be afraid of Mr. Parish."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Im only 23." he says with a chuckle.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"True, but Miss Horne's not one of them. Most in this cemetery aren't. I'd reckon the most dangerous resident is still asleep for now." he shifts his tone to a friendly mocking sort. "Ooh ye better be sure you're clear before she wakes up. She might jab you with a hairpin"
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
"Then you've got a year on me." It wheezes. "I may look ancient, but that's because my body isn't good at holding itself together. It is by Grace alone that I live my half-life, which I am unbelievably grateful for." It coughs harshly, nearly dislocating its jaw. "Most would see my life as a curse, both on myself and on the rest of the world. But it's a blessing, really, and I dare not squander it."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Helo?*
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
*Hello*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
He lets out an annoyed huff. “Very funny.”
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*sorry, had to drive home from school*
“You say Grace as if it were a tangible thing Mister.”
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*All good!*
"Sometimes It is." It draws a holy symbol of some unknown religion and begins to raise it up. It starts to glow with golden light, and the spectral appearance of some sort of... towering abomination of an angel appears behind the darkbeast, the angel's arms wrapped around the beast's neck. The angel looks down at the human before the light fades and it becomes invisible again.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He grips his protective talismans tightly. “W-what was that…?”
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He laughs and goes back to his rose bush
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
"My guardian angel. It won't hurt you... usually." The beast begins to close its dark eyes and weakly clasps its hands. "Now... I lay me down to sleep... I pray... my soul..." It falls to its side, sliding off the rock. The young man can see from the movements of the bones and grass that the angel is still there, and is unwrapping its arms from around the undead.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He then walks closer to the ghost, tilting his head slightly
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Apollon grips something inside his satchel, preparing for the worst.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The scarecrow walks silently through the fields. In one hand it carries a small bow.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She does the same
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, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
There are no footprints in the grass, but in his fear, his senses are hyper-charged. He knows that it's here, drifting through the air like some sort of divine jellyfish. Just as he manages to possible get a bead on where it is, he feels it right behind him, its tendrils drifting against his skin. "Be not afeard, little culver..." comes a gentle whisper, as though all the pleasantness the beast's voice had lacked had been poured into the angel's.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*do you mind cutting. I’m on mobile ;-;*
He waves his hand
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*do you mind cutting? I’m on mobile ;-;*
As soon as it touches him, a thin protective barrier appears. One of his talismans around his neck is now glowing
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.