Murgles The Clown

Just a goofy gal with self-preservation skills like an opossum.

[murgouth]

We should make a public holiday where people dress up as the grim reaper and just walk to a party in crowds. No talking, just shamble with big stompy boots and chains hidden beneath the cloak, and whenever someone talks to you you just turn to stare at them before moving on. When you make it to the party, the host gives you a duffel bag to shove the costume in so you can leave without anyone knowing where the reapers went.

I dub thee "The Night of Walking Death"

[murgouth]

Inside you there are two wolves.

While you're busy being dead, they're enjoying a nice meal.

What this means about you is irrelevant.

[murgouth]

Wolves with night vision goggles and an M4 strapped to their chest call that the 104th battalion.

[murgouth]

03/06/24

We hope everyone is having a pleasant month so far. Please be aware that Case 17 entities have been spotted around large, loud congregations. Please report any person(s) in parades that appear like their anatomy seems to be bending incorrectly. They are not a threat unless interacted with physically, so avoid contact until personnel arrive on scene.

We thank you for your time, and enjoy the festivities.

[murgouth]

PUBLIC NOTICE (03/02/2001)

We would like to take a moment to remind you that Pineskin Disease is not a common occurrence. If you have dry or itchy skin, please consult a regular doctor instead of clogging our phone lines with rampant concern.

This does also apply to Proxy Syndrome. Unless you have been near cordoned-off areas in your community, or you have decided to go hiking off the beaten path, headaches are most likely a product of dehydration or some other sickness.

We would not like to say this again.

[murgouth]

My first post was me wondering if I should talk about my fic, and it's been months since I said I'd explain it sometime in the future, so I'll do it now!

Maybe later.

[murgouth]

I present, The Stained One.

Within the universe, there are those who form it, the Dreamers, and those who are made to wander it, the Watchers. What arises when Watchers coalesce is the creation of the Primordial pools, the very essence of their ability condensed into a putrid liquid of writhing hostility. These are known as Conglomerations, dark gods presiding over a domain.

The Stained One was the corpses of the Great Betrayal, all the Watchers which had been slaughtered, floating in the inky void. Through unknown means, they had entered the Space-Between-Spaces and began to bubble into pure primordium in part thanks to the dream-logic which controlled the place. They became the glittering stars, their divine eye into the realm of mortals as their hunger grew. They searched, hollow, savage, until their eyes had laid on the perfect prey.

Earth.

But as they tried to pass through to envelop their gift, they were found stuck, a border was between them and their deserved prize, the dream-logic chaining them within unreality, and they screamed at their gates for millennia. They remained, bubbling, writhing, seething as the mortals grew and evolved. They pushed at their gates, but their howls became but whimpers in the face of eternity, a whisper to barely carry across the nullspace. That was, until their whispers reached a man, and the words broke his mind, his soul suddenly yearning to be with his blessed god. And so the Church of the Consumer was formed and persisted through hundreds of years, desperately trying to break down the walls between them and their beloved saviour, but the gates remained locked.

And the beast behind them grew ravenous.

[murgouth]

Continuing from my last post because I'm too fucking tired to link them together, magic is super cool because of all the flashing lights, the smoke and mirrors, but dark fantasy doesn't exactly touch on... what happens when magic goes wrong.

Sigil magic is intricate and precise symbols that pull the magic of the world into a centralised area, and sigils carved into the skin use the magic of the person or creature as a pylon, so why don't we see what happens when a sigil is done improperly? Let's say a protection stave, it's carved into someone's domain, but they failed to cut in a millimetre deeper on a linking sigil. This draws the magic into the sigil and starts a corruption, and the next time someone walks through that stave, their flesh begins to tear and flay as the immobilisation it should push down on intruders turns into pulling the person apart. It's such a delicate magic, and people are really fucking dense sometimes, so it'd make logical sense they'd inscribe a sigil incorrectly.

Onto magics that move away from the elements, let's say, uh... um... okay, fine, I'll do necromancy. Necromancy, the art of death and controlling the darkness, a rather unstable form of the arcane arts. Necromancers usually put their magic into an object to prevent complete and utter instability of their spells, like a staff, knife, or ring, and this allows them to pull off amazing feats, but why? The simplest fact of necromancy, especially the unfiltered kind, is that it's unstable and not exactly the most... easy to control, so casting necromancy with living flesh causes... problems. Necromancers of old looked like shambling corpses sustained by their power, and this brought on the Liches and Necrotics (more on them later, if thou doth wish it) to preserve their power and flesh, even if it may look a bit... okay, a bit disgusting and falling off the bone, but what of the spells they cast? Little thing about the death magic, it can reanimate flesh, but it can't reanimate how it used to... fit together. Most necromancy-revived zombies (if you really must use the word) are stuffed inside suits to prevent them from losing shape and turning into what basically surmounts into an ever-growing puddle of goo. If you want to kill this thing, best use sigils or enchantments to decay the flesh and fray the residual magic left within it, and soon it'll be nothing more than petrified dust in a rather smelly suit of armour. But, if you decide to attack it how you would Living Armour, prepare for the arm you cut of to be regrown at twice the size with a lot more writhing flesh and eyes poking out from every which way. At that point, we suggest fire.

This outlines small parts of this world I guess I'm making now, but I want to go further. If I feel inclined, I'll talk about witches, and all the horrid curses those hags can make (Not Hags, those are different)

[murgouth]

Imagine casting a spell and getting the last syllable wrong. You stand there for a second, waiting for a fireball to shoot out of your hands or somethin, and then all of a sudden your hands light aflame.

That would suck, but it also gives me an idea: what if magic backfires and instead casts itself on the body of the wielder? Water casting bloats the muscle, fire casting burns the skin, air casting causes oxygen to leave your FUCKING BLOOD CELLS, and necromancy...

Oh-ho-ho-ho, we don't talk about necromancy. Let's just say the rot consumes... more than usual.

[murgouth]

It's time to evil.

And I don't mean the dishwasher kind.

[murgouth]

new year is upon us

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH

[murgouth]

I realise now, on christmas waiting for family to arrive, that I talked about the blue tongue lizard story twice on tumblr.

And I only have 10 posts (now 11).

...Am I that boring?

[murgouth]

I like to portray myself as the funny goofy silly individual, but like most people, I'm a rat-faced liar and will never show my true, deeply socially anxious side which hates people and wished they could run to a cabin in the woods and figure out their sexuality while being surrounded by various reptiles.

Mostly komodo dragons and blue tongue lizards. Fun fact, one time when I was at school I head some funky shuffling by my feet and a whole-ass blue tongue just wizzed by me into the bushes.

I went hunting for it, but i couldn't see it again. But that was the highlight of the last week of school I had that year. The other highlight was going home.

[murgouth]

Jeepers. I find getting an idea for a fic while writing a fic to be not at all ruh roh raggy zoinks scooby doo if I do say so myself.

That being said I am now multitasking.

Jinkies.

[murgouth]

OH GOD I HAVE MUTUALS

Anyways back to writing.

[murgouth]

I now unveil... Cleaner Moon!

Ignore the fact he looks mildly russian, it was a lot more noticeable before the colouring. That bit's under the cut if you wanna see.

I realised this a bit too late, but I still love 'im.

[murgouth]

Hey what's that thing where... uh.

um

where you-

why was I posting on tumblr again?