#Theseus Pringles

[couchtaro]

Theseus

Theseus, scarecrow oath of the watchers paladin and shepherd of souls, belongs to @eaudecrow

Flowers

Asphodel (Asphodelus): the land of spirits. In Greek mythology, a field of asphodels in the underworld was the dwelling place of neutral souls.

Dame Violet (Hesperis matronalis): watchfulness

Black bindweed (Dioscorea communis): support

Boxwood (Buxus): Constancy in friendship. Labyrinthine hedge mazes are traditionally made of boxwood shrubs.

Rattlesnake root ( Prenanthes purpurea): protection, shield, guarded steps. This plant was thought to grant protection from being caught up in a group of supposed to “friends” who are in actuality threatening and dangerous.

Heath (Epacris impressa): solitude

Witch hazel (Hamamelis virginiana): a spell is on me.

Straw: constancy. Broken straw: broken contract, trouble.

Corn poppy (Papaver rhoeas): good and evil, light and darkness, life and death, fun-loving, avoidance of problems, oblivion. The ancient Greeks believed that corn would not grow without poppies growing nearby. In Greek and Roman myths, poppies were used as offerings to the dead and in modern times are often a motif found on tombstones. Poppies are some of the first flowers to fill holes in disturbed ground, so old battlefields often fill with poppy.

Giant milkweed (Calotropis procera): purposelessness, a monstrosity

Check out the rest of the Pringles Party!

Yancy | Izen | Phaela | “Red”

[justabitscrewy]

Theseus!!! He’s a scarecrow, a watcher, a shepherd, a puppet, our hard hitting paladin and just our bestest lil guy!! I cherish everything about him, and every time @eaudecrow uses their Theseus voice at the table it’s just an absolutely gift.

[eaudecrow]

The spoon comes back out polished to a mirror shine

[eaudecrow]

HELLOOOOOOO THIS IS BEAUTIFUL??? I AM GOING TO STARE AT IT FOR TWO HOURS

Hi! Have you seen the @eaudecrow character??? He's a miracle! Seriously, I'm so thrilled that I drew it :"

I want to kiss both of his cheeks. I mean... Wanna some card guessing?,,

[puukkolesbo]

Tag game: tag people you’d like to get to know better.

@ourdragonsarebetter and @yachaer tagged me, thanks babes<3

Last song: Curses by The Crane Wives

Currently watching: Star Trek, so much Star Trek........ seriously: me and one of my roomies are in the middle of TOS, when I need to watch something on my phone while cooking or something I'm watching TNG or TAS. And alone in my room I'm currently watching the second season of Discovery

Three ships: Currently it's only Spirk in my brain, before that I was on a Hades game brainrot reading Theseus/Zagreus and Asterius/Theseus lmao

Favorite color: Forest green & mustard yellow

Currently consuming: as I said before, Star Trek, so much Star Trek..... I'm reading fics almost round the clock. Also currently addicted to a specific brand of paprika flavored "potato snacks" (Pringles-like chips)

First ship: embarrassing fun fact, the first ship I got properly, conciously, into and wrote fanfiction for must have been FrUK

Relationship status: happily dating @thehoveringbrain

Last movie: Perfect Days (2023) - went to see it last weekend, and it was great!

Currently working on: what I should currently be working on - my thesis. what I am currently working on - my dnd campaign

i've fallen soooo out of tumblr socialising idk what are the norms anymore, so feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna do it, but i'm just gonna go ahead and tag my newest mutuals: @jennelikejennay, @wtfspocks & @spocksbestfriend. and as usual, if anyone wants an excuse to do this, please use me as one! even if i don't follow you! i promise it's alright, i would love to get to know you anyways :-)

[thefallenposts]

Through that lens, one can see "Pringle" as a form of absolution. Even the worst of "Potato" can give up all they are, and consign themself to "Flour", to then be forged anew and reborn.

* Theseus’ ship.

* It is the same as before. In a digestable form.

[eaudecrow]

PDJGKGKDHFJKGJSBF

i love scarecrows so bad Attack on @labotor, Y0sha, vampieri, @eaudecrow, @Civvi-The-Civilian, @zzoupz, @regularragdoll, @joyjoy-ahoy

[stillgotme]

Sharpshooters 💥 ft. @literalite​​​

Should Scylla and Theseus ever cross paths, these two would have a shooting contest. Who would win? 

(They would tie but ultimately Tobi would lose bc they shot up all his pringles cans)

BONUS UNDER CUT: 

@wildfangspack​

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt - I

Part II coming on Tuesday!

I. Old Stone

The beast I knew only in folkloric snippets. Hedge whispers perverting history to arcana through time immemorial. Perhaps too I had known it in nightmares, shapeless until named, becoming then familiar as a bedchamber.

It was grim autumn when that fateful letter arrived, setting in motion a chain of events both strange and unlikely. In retrospect, that a series of vignettes so bizarre could start with the simple act of a posted letter seemed comical.

The letter landed with a thud, dubbing me sole executor of the late Lady Renton Sizemore's last will, a grim charge requiring a trip to her wicked home, listed in the Briarscombe country house register as the third most bloodstained holding in England.

Dislike isn't the word. Lady Sizemore and I got on famously when last we spoke, thirty years ago. I wasn't the doting schoolboy turned dribbling manchild spending Saturday nights at bingo. Neither was she the elderly relation procuring coins from behind ears to the delight of the youngers.

We were not eachother's keeper. Why I was suddenly favoured for this sensitive task that required more mental finesse than anyone in the family gave me credit for out loud, puzzled me greatly. Somebody must have annoyed her at one of her events. Sandwich gala on the Pringle Estate destroyed by careless nephew's untucked shirt. In true family style, whatever infuriated her she took to the grave.

Once the money was apportioned, I was to ensure no stone went unturned, apt phrasing given its namesake. Cairn Cottage stood oppressively atop the mound some two hundred winters, a plundered megalith shielding against the bracing gales.

Up there the flowers bloomed blighted, grass grew sideways and only the sturdiest roots survived. Without the megalith's girth, perhaps those winds might have toppled the twisted demesne, but she held firm now as old.

Mystics, druids and spiritualists alike extolled the house's phantasmic virtues. Fringe groups scrambled to reserve exclusive use of the land for Candlemas ceremonies. Lady Sizemore didn't care, provided she was soundly remunerated.

Rumours abounded of hauntings, anomalies occurring on the land by midnight's trickery.

Upon receipt of instruction, I spurred my carriage toward Cairn Cottage, the house in whose shadow no local walked without rosaries.

Although my visit was primarily administrative, there was another matter pertinent to my interests. One muttering which above all others inspired fear. A cautionary tale warning children from the grounds by night. And sometimes, on cold and lonely nights, a brave man wandering alone might see fit to take the longer road home.

Worse than druids, they said a beast lived on the Moor. A hulking creature, whose snarling teeth bared in fullness of dark glowed like spears of starlight, whose stark brightness was dulled only by the gleaming viscera of previous engagements clinging in ragged flaps.

However the rumour started, it long sprouted legs of its own, more exciting with each recounting.

No smoke without fire. I intended to find the single primal ember, the lone truthful element, stripped of frill and frock, fancy and folly, bereft of myth, or loyalty to tradition. Was there something in the fields by night? Was it dangerous?

First came Sperrin, a grizzly hamlet outside the estate's confines. For a penny, a local lad promised to find a suitable nook for the trap. I visited the sole watering hole, a squalid cellar named Lar's. The tavern itself was not charmless, offering average vintage for below average prices, warmth, music, rustic flattery and inimitably, whispers of the beast.

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With his arms folded across his simian chest and those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon chieftain. He stood astride the bar against a backdrop of coloured bottles. Immediately upon entering his eyes set upon me with great intensity. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. Occasionally I'd catch one staring at me, then turn away as I waved. After a while sitting and sipping, making a game of catching their nosy glances, I signalled Lar's attention. 'This is probably going to sound strange. Probably because it is. Hear me out though. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange out on the moor?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he moved a muscle. 'Have in fact. Not now though. Too many around. Later.' His lips barely moved. I tipped my nose.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side of the bar.

'The beast, you say?' He leaned in close, one eyebrow raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you a thing or two about the beast alright.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity is burning. I won't rest a wink until it's satiated. Tourist talk aside, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these forests?' I inched forward, as if by closer proximity, the truths would be truer.

'Regular Theseus, eh? Monster hunters, we have had plenty. Lovers of darkness too. Students of forbidden arts. All are served here. Kings and paupers alike. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The manner of his prattling meant the tales he told were true, or this was practiced.

'No.' I replied, 'I have business in the cottage. My heart though, she belongs to this creature. I am not a quack, nor a holder of séances. I am not a man of low learning on the hunt for falsehoods. I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

He continued, 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You wanted this.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

Everything made sense. Was I seeing clearly? More than ever. I saw his ruse; city boy down for the day, take him for a ride, tell him the usual stories. A pal of his will burst in at just the right time, scare me half to death, then they'll take me to the supposed hot-spot for the low price of everything I've got. Lar took me for a lettuce. Something in his warning tipped me. A little over-arch. If his performance was not theatre, then Shakespeare never wrote.

Doubtless once finished, Lar would proffer some overpriced talisman no fellwalker could risk refusing.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its shadow.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He did the same, then wiped the amber residue on the back of his hand. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing. Neither of us wished to be responsible for qualms.

He broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart this week you'd be contending with a monster, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am summoned, not here of my own volition.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar gladly dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom as if they were sweets from a bulging striped bag.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I slurped loudly, head bowed. Like a pulled plug, half the liquid gone in a single gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels.

He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too and all, that she built those walls to house it.'

'It?' I asked

'It. The beast.' Lar's voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over. Dabbling where you shouldn't.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this theory. Me personally, I think it came from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the cairn.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was the one stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed, or wanted to believe, that he had seen something. Hoping not to seem needy, I drew myself close to him, the bar still between us, 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it now. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees the distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand before you.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he then removed and hung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief, which clanked against the timber as he let it fall. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him as a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth is those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpieces, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. He had the chiseled jaw of a marble bust in profile, but his mouth hung open permanently, moist lips pursed like a fish.

He placed an enormous hand on my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his splayed fingers that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour, something harder than masonry or smithcraft. Mayhaps soldiering overseas.

I stared at his hand. He never looked at me. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?'

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with the same look of bemused ignorance.

'You hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end, and not in a godly way.' Lar laughed, a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted themselves. He spoke several octaves lower, miming offence at my observation. I started to explain I intended no hidden subtext, but Lar waved to indicate all was taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like some enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie too, once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning so intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he made, and makes, a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy my own selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please, continue.'

'I will at that.'

'It were one night, three years ago. Ferg was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottage. They wouldn't work until the evil was killed or driven away. We came down from the high road proper and saw it between the trees ahead. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robe. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled, it became an orb of shadow, nothingness.'

'Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this site, one of only two wells being located nearby. In a flash then it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed it and set it back properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of their cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar paused to sip and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby, in a blink, become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turns out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painting the air blue in his articulation, 'Each new, shifting moon we came to that spot and watched. We took it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger.'

'Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings.'

'Me? I know about animals. We make a fierce duo. We inquired in advance about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with lengths of rope overshoulder and the angriest looking traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain.'

'Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang, dispelling the subterfuge of his intentions and, in the length of a breath, his beings and inner machinations were laid bare. Far from the sinister goldlust and murderous intention I had silently attributed to him, he seemed eager in an earnest fashion, willing in the name of a job done.

I observed Lar, powerful and straight. 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave me. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say about that. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots, generally ensuring nothing eats me. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.'

Wordless, we shook hands and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened whiskey bottle, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?'

'Not for everyone mind, so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.'

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. Before following the publican to the warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered, the nightmare broke free her paddock, thundering across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves ringing shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions noxious pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found I was formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the others. That if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below me. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

[couchtaro]

I just realized I don’t think I ever posted this? A moment in which @lorebreaker and @eaudecrow made me so soft and melty. Theseus had asked to repair Red’s battle damaged sweater and returned it… embellished. One of his first acts of creativity, unknowingly gifted to the god of creativity :’)

[eaudecrow]

I HAVE ALREADY GONE INSANE ABOUT THIS ON THE ART FIGHT SITE BUT I’M GONNA GO INSANE ABOUT IT AGAIN

HIS SHIRT IS LIKE. A WHOLE SHIRT. I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT. IT’S AN HONEST TO GOD BUTTON DOWN. WHAT. WHAT. AND THIS IS YOUR FIRST??? DOLL?????

You’re magic your fingers are magic I am kissing him and you tenderly on the forehead THANK YOU FOR GIVING HIM FORM

Went a little bit insane and made a doll for art fight <3

Theseus - @eaudecrow

[justabitscrewy]

Visit Pringleton today!!!!! Got a little weird with this one, had a lot of fun. I love this party so dang much and its just a delight every time we get to play dnd together. :’)

Clockwise starting with the spider:

Izen (mine) | Phaela @couchtaro | Yancy @coffeecakecafe | Red @lorebreaker | Theseus @eaudecrow | and the lovely DM: @bacoj8

[eaudecrow]

C’mon he’s just a lil guyyyyy what’s he gonna do, smack you with his stick?

[jo-the-schmo]

Answer all of those Greek asks, because I'm too lazy to memorize any of the names

Damnit T, now I gotta do itGODS: LifeZeus: What’s your name or nickname?-Jo, or MojoHera: Where are you from?-Good Old Get me the fuck out OhioAthena: How old are you?-17 going on 18Hephaestus: When is your birthday?-January 13Aphrodite: What’s your relationship status?-Single as a Pringle (unless Emmy reads this lol)Poseidon: What are your pronouns?-I go with she right now but honestly I have no idea what I even am Dionysus: Are you and extrovert or an introvert?-I'm an awkward extrovert, all of the awkward qualities of an introvert put into an extrovert Demeter: Do you have any pets?-I have many dogs and cats Apollo: What kind of music are you into?-Rap, classical, rock, musicalsArtemis: What do you first notice about new people?-How they react to my extraness Hades: What’s a big fear of yours? -That I'll be forever stuck the way I am, never continuing to change or evolve Ares: What’s a big pet peeve of yours?-When people keep telling me I'm too loud, like yeah I know but I can't control itHestia: Where do you consider home? -No where?CREATURES: LastsPegasus: Last movie you watched? -I went and saw Dunkirk, it was awesome Mermaid: Last tv show you finished?-I am caught up with all of Game of ThronesCentaur: Last book you read?-1984Siren: Last song you listened to?-Letters from Great Comet Gorgon: Last thing you ate?-A cookie Cyclops: Last time you cried?-Yesterday at practice Minotaur: Last time you were truly happy?-What a deep question that I don't know the answer to Sphynx: Last text you sent?-I told my friend @aurasphereriolu2 that our school's Esports club does Overwatch (it was a snap shhhhhh)Chimera: Last call you made?-I probably called my dad to ask him something pointless Griffin: Last thing you did before going to sleep last night?-Told my friend KD that we need to figure out WTF THE MAKEUP Is THIS YEAR DAMNIT Nymph: Last dream you remember?-I killed myself Satyr: Last time you couldn’t stop laughing?-I said "Trump and his Baron son" and my sister fucking died and I just couldn't handle it HEROES: ExperiencesHeracles: Have you ever had a dream come true? -Yeah, it happens a lot Theseus: What is your worst regret?-Not taking dance and stuff when I was youngerPerseus: Have you ever been arrested? -Probably not Cadmus: Have you ever had your heart broken?-pfffffft does sexual assault count as heart break if your sorta boyfriend did it? Achilles: Have you ever had to be hospitalized? -Yeah, I hurt myself a lot Actaeon: Tell about a memory you wish to forget.-That entire experience of sexual assault, just all of them really (all at least 3 off the worst ones)Bellerophon: Have you ever passed out? -I've almost given myself a stroke before so yesAgamemnon: What is an achievement you’re proud of?-Nothing? Oedipus: Have you ever been in love?-I don't know what that feels likeJason: Have you ever travelled abroad? Where?-Not really, still planning that trip to New York to terrorize the bitch who made me DO ALL THIS (I'm kidding I love you)Atlanta: Have you ever stood up for someone else?-My entire life is doing that Hippolytus: Tell an experience you will never forget.-I will never forget the day I died MAGICAL ITEMS: Favorites Trident: Who are your favorite people?-My sister Lightning Bolt: What are your top three favorite movies?-Uhhhh, Brave, Tangled, and Grease Sun Chariot: What is your favorite mythological creature?-Siren Lyre: What are your top three favorite songs?-As of right now, Dust and Ashes, Air 'Em Out, and Balaga Caduceus: What is your favorite color?-PurpleAegis: What is your favorite book or series? -Anything Shakespeare Scythe: What is your favorite tv show?-Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Bident: What is your favorite way to spend free time?-YouTubeHarpe: What are your top 3 favorite places?-no where Cornucopia: What is your favorite place to eat?-Freddy's Winged Sandals: What is your favorite thing to do when you hangout with your friends?-Get 60 chicken nuggets and do nothing else Golden Fleece: What is your favorite animal? -Panthers are coolPLACES: Goals and WishesOlympus: Describe your dream job.-History teaching makeup artist Tartarus: What’s a short term goal you hope to achieve? -get that fucking triple down on rifle Underworld: Describe your dream vacation.-New York is my dream vacation, I just wanna be there Styx: How would you like your life to look like in 10 years?-Sometimes I want it to be me becoming a successful female figure in the media, sometimes I want it to be me already dead buried Athuna: If you could live anywhere in the world for the rest of your life, where would it be?-Honestly? California or Oregon Sparta: Do you have a bucket list? If so, what’s on it?-I don't think about that stuff Elysium: If you could have a superpower, what would it be?-The power to accurately show people how I feel and vice versa Ogygia: Describe your dream husband/wife/life partner?-I have no idea, just someone who respects meTroja: What is the craziest thing you wanna do before you die?-Die The Labyrinth: Have you ever died and came back to life as a vampire? -Who told you? Delphi: Are you currently doing anything to pursue your dreams?-I have an A in US History and my Art Teacher wants me to try and go for AP art and photography next year

[justabitscrewy]

If you could fit the entire universe into a can of chips would you? Absolutely. Welcome to Pringleton. - @bacoj8 one year ago today

HAPPY CANNIVERSARY!!!!!

The Planar Pringles campaign is officially a year old, and its been an incredible journey. Its been an utter joy and privilege to get to build a story and game with such beautifully talented human beings. These characters are all so rich, so multifaceted, and getting to interact with them in such a beautiful narrative space is just a gift.

DM: @bacoj8 || Theseus @eaudecrow || Izen me! || Phaela @couchtaro || Red @lorebreaker || Yancy @coffeecakecafe

80% of the flowers featured here were fully referenced from Taro’s frankly breathtaking and heart wrenching floriograph series

[justabitscrewy]

Working on a much larger piece, but decided to isolate a few elements that I’ve really enjoyed!

Every dnd party should be comprised of homies with darker, haunted sides to them — maybe driven by a fear of what they are or maybe what they fear they might become. Maybe even a fear of the twisted version of themselves they've left behind. Whose to say :3c

Characters belonging to: @lorebreaker | @coffeecakecafe | @eaudecrow | me | @couchtaro