Armed with your Staring Fly?
*Rubs eyes*
Shaddap! You'll get an entry! I'm... I'm a little busy, is all. Art backed up, that is. ... Have to get Gala her art and Q. BowlerhatBarr his challenge art, too. Next week, the promised two folders of NPR music H-here, have a collaborative piece.
ONTDCreepy FFA Presents: An ONTDCreepy Exclusive Original
Words by avatarofchaos
Art by harpsi_fizz
Premise: December 4th, 2010, challengers would present a sentence or paragraph from the fictional parenting book “The Necromomicon: Raising a Little Half-Human, Half-Eldrich God Child” to be illustrated.
Finding the right kind of toys for your pint sized personal terror-tot is not an easy task either. Toys must be simple enough that they catch your eldritch elegance's attention for the ever expanding mind of a growing youngster, but not too complicated that it will be frustrating, veritably shortening your time on this mortal coil. While tempting, one should not use other cultists, family, or the uninitiated for this task, as giving your cutest creator or literal lunacy building blocks for your own replacement by mindless drones should wait until you may prove yourself worthy of being spared.* *note: this process can take anywhere from 1-75 years of service. Just stick to legos.
Weening your little horrid delight is extremely important, if the host mother's life is to be spared. If the host mother is not a initiated in the dark ways, a natural, or shall we say relatively natural, feeding can be attempted, but the results are often messy. And noisy. And can put your little god-child in the mindset that all around him are to be devoured. Really, just give him a bottle. It works better for everyone.
Oh, and here... *carelessly kinda throws* Highest score posted on my LJ before Christmas gets ... art of themselves as a ghost. Yeh. I should have free time by then. And should be closer on my road map to my dream job.
Dat's rite, you gaiz. Psychology's going to have to wait; I've found my calling for now. I've found some connections to it, too.
I'm gonna be working the morgue.
Abracadaver
Shaddap! You'll get an entry! I'm... I'm a little busy, is all. Art backed up, that is. ... Have to get Gala her art and Q. BowlerhatBarr his challenge art, too. Next week, the promised two folders of NPR music H-here, have a collaborative piece.
ONTDCreepy FFA Presents: An ONTDCreepy Exclusive Original
Words by avatarofchaos
Art by harpsi_fizz
Premise: December 4th, 2010, challengers would present a sentence or paragraph from the fictional parenting book “The Necromomicon: Raising a Little Half-Human, Half-Eldrich God Child” to be illustrated.
Finding the right kind of toys for your pint sized personal terror-tot is not an easy task either. Toys must be simple enough that they catch your eldritch elegance's attention for the ever expanding mind of a growing youngster, but not too complicated that it will be frustrating, veritably shortening your time on this mortal coil. While tempting, one should not use other cultists, family, or the uninitiated for this task, as giving your cutest creator or literal lunacy building blocks for your own replacement by mindless drones should wait until you may prove yourself worthy of being spared.* *note: this process can take anywhere from 1-75 years of service. Just stick to legos.
Weening your little horrid delight is extremely important, if the host mother's life is to be spared. If the host mother is not a initiated in the dark ways, a natural, or shall we say relatively natural, feeding can be attempted, but the results are often messy. And noisy. And can put your little god-child in the mindset that all around him are to be devoured. Really, just give him a bottle. It works better for everyone.
Oh, and here... *carelessly kinda throws* Highest score posted on my LJ before Christmas gets ... art of themselves as a ghost. Yeh. I should have free time by then. And should be closer on my road map to my dream job.
Dat's rite, you gaiz. Psychology's going to have to wait; I've found my calling for now. I've found some connections to it, too.
I'm gonna be working the morgue.
Abracadaver