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) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two. Yeah, i'm ace Hey there, just wanted to say I'm a sensitive little sad bean. Drummer has dubbed me Crafter of Constellations.
The wind whistles and cackles, autumn leaves dance in the sky. The moon smiles as the hard work of all of the farmers out there is paying off. Walking through the woods, beneath the canopies of trees and on the neglected paths through the deep woods, a prince makes his way all around the country. Wearing fine noble clothes and a cloak of decaying leaves, his crown made of woven wheat, resting on his well styled reddish brown hair, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He has tan, freckled skin, and fiery orange eyes. At his side, a pristine bronze sickle with the words, ‘carver,’ on its hilt. His footsteps, crunching leaves and twigs, sound almost like the clip-clop of a beast of Burden’s hooves. He wears a pair of black gloves as well as topaz earrings. His cloak is pinned together at his neck with a silver pumpkin pin. Around him, plants grow wildly, making months of growth in mere moments, fruits and flowers blossoming around him, before the fruits and flowers begin to rot and decay with every step he takes away from them. He picks an apple from a tree, takes a bite out of it, and as he’s chewing it, the rest of the fruit withers away to dust.
those from Autumn country likely know of him, though he is reclusive most months besides this very season, as Julius, the Harvest prince. He makes his way across the lands, surveying the harvest and granting his blessings or curses to the fields of those he sees fit. Other months, he stays at his secluded pumpkin patch in the deep dark woods, or attending meetings with others of the Court.
*bumps into post in the deep dark of the night*
*how is everyone?*
You notice a troops of very ragged figures marching along the road towards a hill. They carry bundles of straw on their backs.
Julius smiles upon seeing others, and strides over until he is a few feet behind them, not talking to them but simply watching them. He doesn’t interact with people much.
A few glance back at you, revealing grime covered skulls. Wisps of dried hair and flesh cling to the walking corpses and their bodies are clothed in tattered rags. They hall their straw bundles purposefully as the march up the hill.
Appreciator of all things Weird, Wondrous, and/or Yummy
In the Autumn Country, days end quickly, the gloaming hours linger, and the midnights pile one upon the other till the air is thick and flows like twilight syrup.
*this looks awesome, I'm almost done with my character concept! and can y'all believe it's almost September?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Haiiiiii, I’m Druid/Quinn! (he/they) I'm a smol insane queer lil' mess with a terrible mental state! I'm also a therian and furry :3 My current hyperfixation is Hazbin Hotel (my favorite character is Angel Dust), so if you wanna chat about that, I'm always happy to. My PMs are open if you need to talk or vent, though I must admit I'm a bad therapist.
The wind whistles and cackles, autumn leaves dance in the sky. The moon smiles as the hard work of all of the farmers out there is paying off. Walking through the woods, beneath the canopies of trees and on the neglected paths through the deep woods, a prince makes his way all around the country. Wearing fine noble clothes and a cloak of decaying leaves, his crown made of woven wheat, resting on his well styled reddish brown hair, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He has tan, freckled skin, and fiery orange eyes. At his side, a pristine bronze sickle with the words, ‘carver,’ on its hilt. His footsteps, crunching leaves and twigs, sound almost like the clip-clop of a beast of Burden’s hooves. He wears a pair of black gloves as well as topaz earrings. His cloak is pinned together at his neck with a silver pumpkin pin. Around him, plants grow wildly, making months of growth in mere moments, fruits and flowers blossoming around him, before the fruits and flowers begin to rot and decay with every step he takes away from them. He picks an apple from a tree, takes a bite out of it, and as he’s chewing it, the rest of the fruit withers away to dust.
those from Autumn country likely know of him, though he is reclusive most months besides this very season, as Julius, the Harvest prince. He makes his way across the lands, surveying the harvest and granting his blessings or curses to the fields of those he sees fit. Other months, he stays at his secluded pumpkin patch in the deep dark woods, or attending meetings with others of the Court.
*bumps into post in the deep dark of the night*
*how is everyone?*
*I'm doing great! I'm happy to have quite a few of my best friends on here! I would interact with your post, but I'm not sure how.*
*Also, my parents just left to get Sonic(an American fast food chain, not the hedgehog or screwdriver)!*
*that’s fair. I could put him approaching your village if that would make it easier, as long as it has lots of farmers.*
*very cool, also I did not know there was a such thing as a sonic screwdriver. I’ve been to a Sonic before though.*
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Fear not! Rule number one is to just have fun with it! Rule number zero is to be respectful, however. I didn't get that one for a while, let me tell you.*
The wind whistles and cackles, autumn leaves dance in the sky. The moon smiles as the hard work of all of the farmers out there is paying off. Walking through the woods, beneath the canopies of trees and on the neglected paths through the deep woods, a prince makes his way all around the country. Wearing fine noble clothes and a cloak of decaying leaves, his crown made of woven wheat, resting on his well styled reddish brown hair, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He has tan, freckled skin, and fiery orange eyes. At his side, a pristine bronze sickle with the words, ‘carver,’ on its hilt. His footsteps, crunching leaves and twigs, sound almost like the clip-clop of a beast of Burden’s hooves. He wears a pair of black gloves as well as topaz earrings. His cloak is pinned together at his neck with a silver pumpkin pin. Around him, plants grow wildly, making months of growth in mere moments, fruits and flowers blossoming around him, before the fruits and flowers begin to rot and decay with every step he takes away from them. He picks an apple from a tree, takes a bite out of it, and as he’s chewing it, the rest of the fruit withers away to dust.
those from Autumn country likely know of him, though he is reclusive most months besides this very season, as Julius, the Harvest prince. He makes his way across the lands, surveying the harvest and granting his blessings or curses to the fields of those he sees fit. Other months, he stays at his secluded pumpkin patch in the deep dark woods, or attending meetings with others of the Court.
*bumps into post in the deep dark of the night*
*how is everyone?*
You notice a troops of very ragged figures marching along the road towards a hill. They carry bundles of straw on their backs.
Julius smiles upon seeing others, and strides over until he is a few feet behind them, not talking to them but simply watching them. He doesn’t interact with people much.
A few glance back at you, revealing grime covered skulls. Wisps of dried hair and flesh cling to the walking corpses and their bodies are clothed in tattered rags. They hall their straw bundles purposefully as the march up the hill.
Intrigued, he gasps in a mix of delight and curiosity, bounding ahead of the group on the wind to See where they are heading, landing the small leap with a clip-clop, like hooves.
He thinks for a bit. "Your offer is tempting, I admit. To ride with the King Himself on a Hunt... but I have work here. One of the members of my household is immobile for the foreseeable future, and it would be irresponsible to have others take care of them for that whole time. Another thing I have to keep in mind is that I'm the local therapist and pharmacist, so I need to be ready in case of an emergency."
He nods, “I understand. You have responsibilities that come first, but if you are ever able you are welcome to join the next one.” He considers, “What sort of hindrance plagues your household? I may be able to aid you, or at the very least provide you with aid.”
"My spouse... I... well... Thousands of years of combined lifetimes takes a toll on the very soul. Most of my people believe them to be gone, but in truth, I'm afraid one or the other would be hurt by the reveal. Please do not speak to others of this, but the history of this land rots those who dare claim ownership of it. My spouse is the holder of the deed, and they have simultaneously deteriorated and developed in both mind and body. Caring for them is easy, aside from one detail: they are empathic. They feel the emotions of the entire town."
He sighs, picking up a small bottle of pills and taking one. "I love them so much, but the sins of this land curse us. See, the hunters, the four nobles who used to own this clearing, they used it as an enormous stink pit. Edge to edge, rotting animals and political rivals. Their spirits dwell in my love, my Knight. I only tell you because you have the right to know. While I could not stop you if you so desired, please, I beg of you, tell no one."
He lets out a long sigh that causes the branches of the surrounding trees to sway and shed their leaves. “I’ll hold your secret close. If there is anything I can do to help, know that my Keep is always open.”
Appreciator of all things Weird, Wondrous, and/or Yummy
In the Autumn Country, days end quickly, the gloaming hours linger, and the midnights pile one upon the other till the air is thick and flows like twilight syrup.
The wind whistles and cackles, autumn leaves dance in the sky. The moon smiles as the hard work of all of the farmers out there is paying off. Walking through the woods, beneath the canopies of trees and on the neglected paths through the deep woods, a prince makes his way all around the country. Wearing fine noble clothes and a cloak of decaying leaves, his crown made of woven wheat, resting on his well styled reddish brown hair, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He has tan, freckled skin, and fiery orange eyes. At his side, a pristine bronze sickle with the words, ‘carver,’ on its hilt. His footsteps, crunching leaves and twigs, sound almost like the clip-clop of a beast of Burden’s hooves. He wears a pair of black gloves as well as topaz earrings. His cloak is pinned together at his neck with a silver pumpkin pin. Around him, plants grow wildly, making months of growth in mere moments, fruits and flowers blossoming around him, before the fruits and flowers begin to rot and decay with every step he takes away from them. He picks an apple from a tree, takes a bite out of it, and as he’s chewing it, the rest of the fruit withers away to dust.
those from Autumn country likely know of him, though he is reclusive most months besides this very season, as Julius, the Harvest prince. He makes his way across the lands, surveying the harvest and granting his blessings or curses to the fields of those he sees fit. Other months, he stays at his secluded pumpkin patch in the deep dark woods, or attending meetings with others of the Court.
*bumps into post in the deep dark of the night*
*how is everyone?*
You notice a troops of very ragged figures marching along the road towards a hill. They carry bundles of straw on their backs.
Julius smiles upon seeing others, and strides over until he is a few feet behind them, not talking to them but simply watching them. He doesn’t interact with people much.
A few glance back at you, revealing grime covered skulls. Wisps of dried hair and flesh cling to the walking corpses and their bodies are clothed in tattered rags. They hall their straw bundles purposefully as the march up the hill.
Intrigued, he gasps in a mix of delight and curiosity, bounding ahead of the group on the wind to See where they are heading, landing the small leap with a clip-clop, like hooves.
The skeletons climb to the crown of the hill and they begin to toss their bundles into a large pile.
One of them approaches you and speaks in the dry, raspy speech of a voice scraped from the insides of a corpse, “I’m sorry for my company’s silence. Most have lost their tongues. Tell me sir, do you know the origin of the word bonfire?”
Appreciator of all things Weird, Wondrous, and/or Yummy
In the Autumn Country, days end quickly, the gloaming hours linger, and the midnights pile one upon the other till the air is thick and flows like twilight syrup.
The Keeper of Tomes is a figure shrouded in mystery, entrusted with the solemn duty of guarding the ancient and otherworldly knowledge of the feyrealm from the prying eyes of mortals. Acting as the steward of The King of Autumn, he dwells concealed in the elaborate and labyrinthine underground passages beneath the town, where he diligently preserves the chronicles and esoteric lore of the fey.
His countenance is characterized by short silvery hair and a well-kempt goatee. The depths of his black eyes seem to mirror the infinite expanse of the night sky, and he is typically attired in robes of a rich, flowing dark green hue. A singular silver hoop earring graces one of his ears, and he is seldom without a tome clutched in his grasp.
Despite the appearance of a man, his corporeal form is but a facade. In actuality, he exists as a swirling union of elemental energy, brought forth by the convergence of eons-old forces within a minuscule rupture in the tapestry of space and time. However, his human semblance serves to offer reassurance to those he encounters, veiling his true nature from all who cross his path.
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
(Don't you mean a SEEGEBURCHER?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
Appreciator of all things Weird, Wondrous, and/or Yummy
In the Autumn Country, days end quickly, the gloaming hours linger, and the midnights pile one upon the other till the air is thick and flows like twilight syrup.
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
He drops the handful of dirt, looking up to the fox man. “Oh, not at all! I only have to do this once a year, I think it’s good for me anyways. Now, I’ve just come to review this wonderful village’s harvest, as usual. I do not believe I recognize you… sorry if we had met before, the Autumn country is quite large.” He says, chuckling as he watches the beast folk.
He nods, “I understand. You have responsibilities that come first, but if you are ever able you are welcome to join the next one.” He considers, “What sort of hindrance plagues your household? I may be able to aid you, or at the very least provide you with aid.”
"My spouse... I... well... Thousands of years of combined lifetimes takes a toll on the very soul. Most of my people believe them to be gone, but in truth, I'm afraid one or the other would be hurt by the reveal. Please do not speak to others of this, but the history of this land rots those who dare claim ownership of it. My spouse is the holder of the deed, and they have simultaneously deteriorated and developed in both mind and body. Caring for them is easy, aside from one detail: they are empathic. They feel the emotions of the entire town."
He sighs, picking up a small bottle of pills and taking one. "I love them so much, but the sins of this land curse us. See, the hunters, the four nobles who used to own this clearing, they used it as an enormous stink pit. Edge to edge, rotting animals and political rivals. Their spirits dwell in my love, my Knight. I only tell you because you have the right to know. While I could not stop you if you so desired, please, I beg of you, tell no one."
He lets out a long sigh that causes the branches of the surrounding trees to sway and shed their leaves. “I’ll hold your secret close. If there is anything I can do to help, know that my Keep is always open.”
"Thank you, my Lord, but I believe I've found a cure already." He slowly limps over to grab some milk from the fridge. "Those nobles..." He shakes his head as he pours it into a chipped mug. He swallows the pill with the milk. "...they always go hunting. Just outside the parts of the woods they corrupted. I think they can quell the spirits. It'll just take some convincing." He sits back down, suddenly somewhat sleepy-looking. "I've failed to convince them before, but I just need to carry a big stick this time. Of course, sticks that big are hard to come by..." he chuckles drowsily.
The wind whistles and cackles, autumn leaves dance in the sky. The moon smiles as the hard work of all of the farmers out there is paying off. Walking through the woods, beneath the canopies of trees and on the neglected paths through the deep woods, a prince makes his way all around the country. Wearing fine noble clothes and a cloak of decaying leaves, his crown made of woven wheat, resting on his well styled reddish brown hair, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He has tan, freckled skin, and fiery orange eyes. At his side, a pristine bronze sickle with the words, ‘carver,’ on its hilt. His footsteps, crunching leaves and twigs, sound almost like the clip-clop of a beast of Burden’s hooves. He wears a pair of black gloves as well as topaz earrings. His cloak is pinned together at his neck with a silver pumpkin pin. Around him, plants grow wildly, making months of growth in mere moments, fruits and flowers blossoming around him, before the fruits and flowers begin to rot and decay with every step he takes away from them. He picks an apple from a tree, takes a bite out of it, and as he’s chewing it, the rest of the fruit withers away to dust.
those from Autumn country likely know of him, though he is reclusive most months besides this very season, as Julius, the Harvest prince. He makes his way across the lands, surveying the harvest and granting his blessings or curses to the fields of those he sees fit. Other months, he stays at his secluded pumpkin patch in the deep dark woods, or attending meetings with others of the Court.
*bumps into post in the deep dark of the night*
*how is everyone?*
You notice a troops of very ragged figures marching along the road towards a hill. They carry bundles of straw on their backs.
Julius smiles upon seeing others, and strides over until he is a few feet behind them, not talking to them but simply watching them. He doesn’t interact with people much.
A few glance back at you, revealing grime covered skulls. Wisps of dried hair and flesh cling to the walking corpses and their bodies are clothed in tattered rags. They hall their straw bundles purposefully as the march up the hill.
Intrigued, he gasps in a mix of delight and curiosity, bounding ahead of the group on the wind to See where they are heading, landing the small leap with a clip-clop, like hooves.
The skeletons climb to the crown of the hill and they begin to toss their bundles into a large pile.
One of them approaches you and speaks in the dry, raspy speech of a voice scraped from the insides of a corpse, “I’m sorry for my company’s silence. Most have lost their tongues. Tell me sir, do you know the origin of the word bonfire?”
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
He drops the handful of dirt, looking up to the fox man. “Oh, not at all! I only have to do this once a year, I think it’s good for me anyways. Now, I’ve just come to review this wonderful village’s harvest, as usual. I do not believe I recognize you… sorry if we had met before, the Autumn country is quite large.” He says, chuckling as he watches the beast folk.
"Oh no, not at all. My name is Aeon Drowse, the founder of this place of rest, a haven for the wayward, assuming we can pay the rent. I hope you find that it meets all your needs."
The village children point and giggle, excited that the Prince is here. The adults try to get them to stop pointing and get back to feeding the "quiet-minded" animals.
The Keeper of Tomes is a figure shrouded in mystery, entrusted with the solemn duty of guarding the ancient and otherworldly knowledge of the feyrealm from the prying eyes of mortals. Acting as the steward of The King of Autumn, he dwells concealed in the elaborate and labyrinthine underground passages beneath the town, where he diligently preserves the chronicles and esoteric lore of the fey.
His countenance is characterized by short silvery hair and a well-kempt goatee. The depths of his black eyes seem to mirror the infinite expanse of the night sky, and he is typically attired in robes of a rich, flowing dark green hue. A singular silver hoop earring graces one of his ears, and he is seldom without a tome clutched in his grasp.
Despite the appearance of a man, his corporeal form is but a facade. In actuality, he exists as a swirling union of elemental energy, brought forth by the convergence of eons-old forces within a minuscule rupture in the tapestry of space and time. However, his human semblance serves to offer reassurance to those he encounters, veiling his true nature from all who cross his path.
As he progresses through the catacombs, he discovers an old tunnel that had been covered by spiderwebs up until now. The smell of hundreds of years of rot and putrescence drifts out.
*Oh, there are tons of farmers. It's a farming village! I would love for you to put him on the approach. He would probably notice that the land is particularly fertile, but super haunted, even for the Autumn Country.*
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
He drops the handful of dirt, looking up to the fox man. “Oh, not at all! I only have to do this once a year, I think it’s good for me anyways. Now, I’ve just come to review this wonderful village’s harvest, as usual. I do not believe I recognize you… sorry if we had met before, the Autumn country is quite large.” He says, chuckling as he watches the beast folk.
"Oh no, not at all. My name is Aeon Drowse, the founder of this place of rest, a haven for the wayward, assuming we can pay the rent. I hope you find that it meets all your needs."
The village children point and giggle, excited that the Prince is here. The adults try to get them to stop pointing and get back to feeding the "quiet-minded" animals.
”i’m sure it will, I don’t need much. I can taste the fertility of these lands in the air, you must have a great harvest season. Now, could you show me to one of your farms? I’d love to see the crops.” He says, waving and smiling with some of the children. Winds pick up fallen leaves and blasts them into the faces of some of the adults, not hurting of course but pretty annoying. He chuckles and turns back to Aeon.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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*this is sick and i like october*
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)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two. Yeah, i'm ace
Hey there, just wanted to say I'm a sensitive little sad bean.
Drummer has dubbed me Crafter of Constellations.
(Dear god ya'll have experience-)
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
(online Monday-Friday from 8:00 to 3:00) (Most of the time.)
First ACTUAL RP character as a SHEET!!! He's a foxfolk.
Hewwo! ^w^ You wanna see a surprise? :3
A few glance back at you, revealing grime covered skulls. Wisps of dried hair and flesh cling to the walking corpses and their bodies are clothed in tattered rags. They hall their straw bundles purposefully as the march up the hill.
*this looks awesome, I'm almost done with my character concept! and can y'all believe it's almost September?*
Haiiiiii, I’m Druid/Quinn! (he/they) I'm a smol insane queer lil' mess with a terrible mental state! I'm also a therian and furry :3 My current hyperfixation is Hazbin Hotel (my favorite character is Angel Dust), so if you wanna chat about that, I'm always happy to. My PMs are open if you need to talk or vent, though I must admit I'm a bad therapist.
"tAkE tHaT, dEpReSsiOn!" -Lucifer Morningstar
Julius makes his way along a wooded, untraveled path towards this village. He breathes in, and smells the fertility of the land. As he comes into view from the woods into the clearing, he scoops up a handful of dirt and holds it close to his eyes, examining it, still walking. His aura of harvest becomes a lot more wild.
*Fear not! Rule number one is to just have fun with it! Rule number zero is to be respectful, however. I didn't get that one for a while, let me tell you.*
But then, you're already there, aren't you?
(I'm glad, too. TwT)
(I'll make a character in a little bit if I can. Until then, my final message. Goodbye.)
*Just fades away lol-*
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
(online Monday-Friday from 8:00 to 3:00) (Most of the time.)
First ACTUAL RP character as a SHEET!!! He's a foxfolk.
Hewwo! ^w^ You wanna see a surprise? :3
Intrigued, he gasps in a mix of delight and curiosity, bounding ahead of the group on the wind to See where they are heading, landing the small leap with a clip-clop, like hooves.
He lets out a long sigh that causes the branches of the surrounding trees to sway and shed their leaves. “I’ll hold your secret close. If there is anything I can do to help, know that my Keep is always open.”
The skeletons climb to the crown of the hill and they begin to toss their bundles into a large pile.
One of them approaches you and speaks in the dry, raspy speech of a voice scraped from the insides of a corpse, “I’m sorry for my company’s silence. Most have lost their tongues. Tell me sir, do you know the origin of the word bonfire?”
The Keeper of Tomes is a figure shrouded in mystery, entrusted with the solemn duty of guarding the ancient and otherworldly knowledge of the feyrealm from the prying eyes of mortals. Acting as the steward of The King of Autumn, he dwells concealed in the elaborate and labyrinthine underground passages beneath the town, where he diligently preserves the chronicles and esoteric lore of the fey.
His countenance is characterized by short silvery hair and a well-kempt goatee. The depths of his black eyes seem to mirror the infinite expanse of the night sky, and he is typically attired in robes of a rich, flowing dark green hue. A singular silver hoop earring graces one of his ears, and he is seldom without a tome clutched in his grasp.
Despite the appearance of a man, his corporeal form is but a facade. In actuality, he exists as a swirling union of elemental energy, brought forth by the convergence of eons-old forces within a minuscule rupture in the tapestry of space and time. However, his human semblance serves to offer reassurance to those he encounters, veiling his true nature from all who cross his path.
(Only Available in PM's)
*Just had a glorious BEESECHURGER*
A middle-aged fox man wanders over. "Prince Julius! Nice to see you here. I hope it doesn't trouble you too much to come all this way."
Various beastfolk, such as pigs, cows, chickens, and game birds, watch from nearby houses and farms, curious.
But then, you're already there, aren't you?
(Don't you mean a SEEGEBURCHER?)
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
(online Monday-Friday from 8:00 to 3:00) (Most of the time.)
First ACTUAL RP character as a SHEET!!! He's a foxfolk.
Hewwo! ^w^ You wanna see a surprise? :3
*Sorry y’all, I’ll be back in about an hour after I sup.*
He drops the handful of dirt, looking up to the fox man. “Oh, not at all! I only have to do this once a year, I think it’s good for me anyways. Now, I’ve just come to review this wonderful village’s harvest, as usual. I do not believe I recognize you… sorry if we had met before, the Autumn country is quite large.” He says, chuckling as he watches the beast folk.
"Thank you, my Lord, but I believe I've found a cure already." He slowly limps over to grab some milk from the fridge. "Those nobles..." He shakes his head as he pours it into a chipped mug. He swallows the pill with the milk. "...they always go hunting. Just outside the parts of the woods they corrupted. I think they can quell the spirits. It'll just take some convincing." He sits back down, suddenly somewhat sleepy-looking. "I've failed to convince them before, but I just need to carry a big stick this time. Of course, sticks that big are hard to come by..." he chuckles drowsily.
But then, you're already there, aren't you?
He thinks for a moment.
”I do not, tell me, my good sir.”
"Oh no, not at all. My name is Aeon Drowse, the founder of this place of rest, a haven for the wayward, assuming we can pay the rent. I hope you find that it meets all your needs."
The village children point and giggle, excited that the Prince is here. The adults try to get them to stop pointing and get back to feeding the "quiet-minded" animals.
But then, you're already there, aren't you?
As he progresses through the catacombs, he discovers an old tunnel that had been covered by spiderwebs up until now. The smell of hundreds of years of rot and putrescence drifts out.
But then, you're already there, aren't you?
”i’m sure it will, I don’t need much. I can taste the fertility of these lands in the air, you must have a great harvest season. Now, could you show me to one of your farms? I’d love to see the crops.” He says, waving and smiling with some of the children. Winds pick up fallen leaves and blasts them into the faces of some of the adults, not hurting of course but pretty annoying. He chuckles and turns back to Aeon.