Placeholder: I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself

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@generalpha

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I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself

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1 year ago

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Openjourney

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What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
Azazel grins, teeth glinting in the shadows. "Who are you to judge my actions, O hooded one? Your scythe is not my concern." "London still mourns the children you slew," Dahlia replies. "I banished you once before For your wicked crimes. Must history repeat?"
[art by Dorohedoro] Necromancy is the summoning of and speech with the dead, as is shown by its etymology; for it is derived from the Greek word Nekros, meaning a corpse, and Manteia, meaning divination. And they accomplish this by working some spell over the blood of a man or some animal, knowing that the devil delights in such sin, and loves blood and the pouring out of blood. Wherefore, when they think that they call the dead from hell to answer their questions, it is the devils in the likene
Infamous Azazel, demon of sacrifice, Bearer of man's sins into the wilderness - What secrets lie beneath your fearsome guise, Your twisted horns and talons sharp as knives? Perhaps you too were innocent once, cleansed By desert winds and baptismal rains. But corruption crept in, sin by sin, Until your heart as black as soot became.
[Dahlia Death] "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" You ask "tell me more about this shadow... could it be... a devil?" The man looks at you with a worried look, he says: "The shadow was very dark, and it seemed to be made out of fire, with horns and cloven hoofs"
[Dahlia Death] "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" You ask "tell me more about this shadow... could it be... a devil?" The man looks at you with a worried look, he says: "The shadow was very dark, and it seemed to be made out of fire, with horns and cloven hoofs"
Infamous Azazel, demon of sacrifice, Bearer of man's sins into the wilderness - What secrets lie beneath your fearsome guise, Your twisted horns and talons sharp as knives? Perhaps you too were innocent once, cleansed By desert winds and baptismal rains. But corruption crept in, sin by sin, Until your heart as black as soot became.
I liked the old Death better. He was all about fried pickles and tickle babe. This new Death... She's always sticking her scythe where it doesn't belong. There has to be another way. Well, there's not. Now, I know you don't like it, and I don't really care. 'Cause you just heard it from God Himself
Detailed (drawing by artist Otto Rapp 1.5) at the Cryptid Taxidermy Museum in post apocalyptic Wonderland, in heaven everything is fine by lady in the radiator and brothers quay, drawing by H.R. Giger, by Giuseppe Arcimboldo, Hieronymus Bosch, Alphonse Mucha, intricately detailed, hyperrealism, fantasy, Bogomils Universe
What dark visions will they unleash? I hear panting in the shadows, a rumbling beneath the floor. Something is stirring in the netherworld, drawn by the call of pen against paper. A sudden gasp tears through the tense quiet. The monsters are coming, scrabbling against the veil that separates our worlds. I must capture their frenzied essence before they tear through, bring strange terrors spilling out into the night. My pen flies, guided by otherworldly hands. A tale is forming, one that will ke
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