#Plon

[witekspicsoldpostcards]

PLON / Plön / GERMANY

[berryseisel]

Dierectionality is a wild piece with many shifting perspectives and intrigue, this is a low quality version but if you want a full quality version please send me an offer!

[poodlewizard]

PLIN PLIN PLON 🎵🎵🎵

[tarnussy]

Isn't it wild how there is no Iudex Gundyr x Ashen One slime tentacle porn art, like at all. Do I have to make everything myself?!?!

[toweringclam]

[jade--salamander]

One of these days, the Soul of Cinder OST is going to break me, and I'm honna lay down and ugly cry for an hour straight.

[angelbornaltruist]

The Soul of Cinder is such a great concept bc it is literally the result of what happens if you refuse to let something die. It's something that needs to die, the whole world practically BEGS for it, but it still fights on bc of all the lords of the past who chose to keep it alive anyway.

Like, imagine a garden that is never trimmed but ever watered. It needs to be pruned, it needs to be restrained, it may even need to die in the winter so the farmer can have another go, but instead the farmer keeps watering it, keeps feeding it, until it grows out of proportion, leaves and vines tangling up fences and spilling out into the yard around it. In accepting the gift of life given to it, it has become deadly to the things around it, as it chokes out the life from other plants and ruins the natural order of things. Yet it can no longer be simply pruned in an afternoon now, no, now it's become a whole landscaping job (and as somebody who worked landscaping for a summer job, it's a nightmare). It took the life you gave, and it'll be damned if it gives that life back without a fight.

And that's exactly what we see with the soul of cinder, something that has to be killed, but it's clinging on to the gift of life with everything it's got. It's the indomitable human spirit in its most pure, terrifying form. Pulling out everything that it's ever been given in an effort to keep holding on to life.

Yet life must give way to death; the rain must drive away the sun, and the grass must wither and fade away.

[greansebug]

THE NAMELESS

Theme for Arti Walkers

Rain World: Walkers is, well, a Rain World AU that's been marinating in my head for a bit.

(Y'know the whole furry narrative where it's anthros and humans in the same universe? Yeah, that's what this is but instead of anthros, it's just anthro scugs.)

Surrounding Arti (artificer but if she was a city boy), and that's likely it. Iterators will probably not exist in this AU unless I feel like it. I'm not sure where I want to go with the romance side of this.

Its one of these:

Artispear, because I love boomstick

Artiriv, because bathbomb is kinda dope

or Arti and this other depressed human kid who's gonna be a main character either way

Since i'm so indecisive, and noone will see this, Ima make a poll. This poll will give me ideas, however has a probability to not affect my decision at all. I just wanna know what goes on in you ladies and germs' heads.

[curufiin]

△ do you think your father would be proud of you

10/10 you did NOT have to ask that

Curufin is quiet for a long time. Whether he’s pondering the question or just feeling bad about himself is a mystery.

“I don’t know,” he says, finally, though without the self-assuredness his voice often carries. “I hope he is. I’ve only ever tried to please him.”

His prayers to Fëanor have never gone answered.

[screenshotingmonstertv]

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Camberra (i.e. Déodat du Puy-Montbrun) - Et La Mort Pour Sa Peine - Plon - 1970

[entheundead]

Madness.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Step to the right, move to the left, to the right, to death. Once, twice, thrice. What a symphony, pretty.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Step to death. Back to the hell. Four, five, six. What a flame, It rings.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Right, right, right. Die, die die. Seven, eight, nine. What armour, unneeded.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Move to the left. To harm, too late, to be harmed. Ten, eleven, twelve. What a pain, awaited.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Step back, step forward. To hell, for more. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. What an honour, despair.

Plin plin plon, plin plin plon, plin plin plon. Left, right, to die, to see. To feel. Plin plin plon. Here. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. What a sight, betterment. At last.

Plin plin plon. Plin plin plon. Plin plin plon. What a red. To die and breathe. To feel. To the right, to the left. Forward. Nineteen, twenty, twenty one. What a life. Not yet there.

[captorations]

obviously i'm over a decade late to the party but i can't pretend i didn't walk into the final boss of dark souls 1 and get gutpunched by music that, instead of being epic or climactic in any way, was kingdom hearts levels of somber and beautiful and tear-inducing

[fagmegumi]

Last post is just me and gio in weeb cave @ chiara & marti’s jjk lb

[greetings-inferiors]

I’ve never played dark souls but plin plin plon STILL makes me tear up