$LAYYYTER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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- ă©ăŒăžăŁăłVSăă©ăăŹăąăč // Rajang VS Fatalis // GROD -
An amazing art piece, indeed! TIME FOR YOUR LUMPS, FATTY!
Oh, what's this? Credit where it is due: you, my furry friend, would last quite a bit longer than most other creatures if you challenged our kind.
You would still lose, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.
ăMHF-Găæ„”éćŸäŒæŠ ăă©ăăŹăąăč
ćèŠă§ăăăăăȘăçšćșŠăźćŒ·ăă ăă掟æăȘăšăă§ăŻăăăčăăă
(( HO-LY SHIT))
"Heh... so the youth has finally decided to reveal its true form.
Behold, the dragon of fate! Perhaps the human saying is true: Heaven and Earth are ours...
But, I do wonder what you will think when I finally emerge from my cocoon. Hahahaha..."
What does this mean?
That, my friend, is exactly the question you have to ask.
YOU LEFT OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING CRYSTAL PYRAMIDS THEY FOUND ON THE FLOOR OF THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE
OLDER THAN THE AZTECS AND COMPLETELY SMOOTH AND 3 TIMES BIGGER THAN THE EGYPTIAN CHEOPS AND NO ONE KNOWS HOW IT GOT THERE.
IM SORRY BUT WHY IS THIS THE FIRST TIME IVE HEARD OF THE CRYSTAL PYRAMIDS WHAT IS THIS SHIT
OKAY HEREâS YOUR DEBRIEFING OF THE CRYSTAL PYRAMID BECAUSE THAT IS SOME CRAZY SHIT.
IN 2012 FRENCH AND AMERICAN SCIENTISTS STUDYING THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE STUMBLED UPON THIS HUGE TRANSLUCENT PYRAMID
THIS THING MEASURED 300 METERS WIDE AND 200 METERS TALL. THATâS BIGGER THAN THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZA SO YOU COULD IMAGINE HOW CRAZY THIS WAS TO THE SCIENTISTS
NOW THIS IS ALL 2000 METERS UNDERWATER. THE SCIENTISTS THEN DISCOVERED TWO HOLES AT THE TOP OF THE PYRAMID THAT MOVE WATER THRU AT AN EXTREMELY FAST RATE. THIS CAUSES MASIVE SURGE WAVES AND MIST ON THE SURFACE. THAT MAY BE THE REASON FOR THE INCIDENTS WITH BOATS AND PLANES CRASHING THERE
THEYâRE SAYING THAT THIS PYRAMID COULD BE FROM THE TIME BEFORE THE BIBLE SAYS NOAHâS ARK HAPPENED
OR ALIENS
BUT WHATEVER IT IS THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE JUST GOT LIKE A BILLION TIMES CREEPIER
(The Crystal Pyramid is fake
A shame though it would have been coolâŠ.)
(And this is why I love Snopes.com. Can't have false information being taken as truth, no?)
New Years
"After you have experienced the beginning of a new cycle a number of times, you start to wonder what makes this such a time of celebration. Ah, but what do I know? I am merely a resident of tartarus: this area of the realm is constantly and unchangeably...pleasant."Â
Krampus Belial is suppose to only punish the naughty ones...
But isn't it more amusing to just give 'coal' to everyone?
(Merry Christmas everyone! Belial's just having a doozy of a time...)
"Merry Christmas brother...even though I'm sure you don't observe this holiday,"
"I do not, but I see you do. I will give you the same sentiment, for we share the same blood. Merry . . . Christmas."
A Colloquy Between the Crimson King and the Ebony Queen (LegendofFlight)
Such a voice! Powerful, authoritative, and dominant: it suited the crimson clad gentleman well as he gave his battle-boast. It was a tribute to their pinnacle status of apex predators, of two worthy beings united for but a blink of time to converse and share experiences. The universe could not have chosen a more suiting theme to such an encounter, for the hunt and destruction of humanity had been her driven goal since her arrival upon this cruel land. Certainly they proved decent adversaries in some situations, but never could they harness what was not gifted to them by some modern Prometheus. The elements were foreign objects that they could only harness with the assistance of some higher power or laced unto a tool. She had learned this in her dawn.
In her adolescence at the beginning of her rule over her acquired Citadel, she had moved in a fashion akin to a snake with legs, but now, observe her in her adult form: she was colossal in comparison. It had been difficult at that stage to keep up with the always quick and agile humans that darted about and sliced her with dragon-imbued weapons, but now she tottered about on muscular and defined legs. Her quarry was more amusing at that stage of development, more of a challenge to crack and destroy. Such merriment could not be replicated easy with her power that she had acquired with age. His statement all rang true, though the monarch's preference for the chase remained. She enjoyed giving a tour of her hallowed grounds to those who were about to join it permanently, and enjoyed thundering through her citadel with the grace and power of a charging bull. Raw power and stamina was all it amounted to in those circumstances - he who prevailed was the one who could outlast the other. Perhaps it was different upon this exhilarating volcano, where the flighty were turned to cinders by molten stone or asphyxiated by noxious fumes. The real enjoyment would no doubt be with those who attempted to face off against a demon with death in front and behind. Conquest had been bred into her mindset through the millennia of evolution that blessed her species. To rule it all with an iron fist was supreme, and to lose it all was worse than death. Constant expansion was necessary to fuel the machine that was their body, for destruction acted as an appetizer for effacing entire peoples off the planet. Ideals that this male had were influential. "To see a world dance in flame under blood-red skies and a black, chilled sun," she would reply, "is the dream of any who wish to rule this world through conquest. If it is not for entire nations that one can inflict this, than certainly it is good to inject such emotions and sensations of desolation and cold unto a single worthy opponent. To butt heads and do battle upon a battlefield of the mind is, in itself, worthy of legend. Defeating the enemy before the war has even begun is a double-edged victory: you will win, but you will not have experienced the fullness of your opponent's abilities." The monarch would continue, "Perhaps it is right to despise the cowardly who run away at the first sight of danger, and perhaps it is right to mock the foolish who remain to fight, but surely the latter understand a glorious death is a death worth memory. Then it is so: the most worthy of opponents is not in number or how long you might toy with them as they attempt to flee, but the opposition who rises to the occasion and vainly attempts to emerge victorious in a battle with a titan."
Out of all the mighty beasts that roamed the lands - from the infernal Dire Miralis to the ethereal White Fatalis - it was the menial human that seemed to, simultaneously, epitomize the most malevolent of malice and the most righteous of virtue. What astonished Belial the most about this observation was that humans possessed not the abilities to inherently control anything. Of course, nature had gifted them a guile unmatched by many creatures, but nature also cursed them with transient lives - at least most of them. Just how could a short-lived species prove capable of overcoming nature as much as it did, cleverness notwithstanding? The crimson destroyer, in all his years of destroying humans, had never viewed the species in general as lesser beings. He figured that, in his attempts at decimating the humans, eventually one truly worthy human would stand to topple the dragon of fate. Until then, of course, being a destroyer of such a worthy species was a pleasant occupation.
If there was one thing he disliked about the species, however, it was their propensity to swarm a foe; like pathetic little ants, they sacrificed individual confidence and powers for the false comforts of the collective. He could remember very little, if at all, about the armies that stood against him and failed. The encounters all fit the same general narrative and merged together in his mind to form a monotonous memory. Perhaps that is why he preferred the guild's routine of only sending four hunters against beasts like himself. Each individual had their own unique song of bows, guns, swords, hammers, lances, and axes, and each individual had their own unique perspective of their demise. Some of these nuances were less than flattering (Belial could remember many a time a hunter would burst to tears and be reduced to a whimpering child at the sight of Belial), but at least they were memorable.
Belial's mind processed the tone and words of the female. He had expected the other dragon to be of an ambitious sort, but now he was beginning to see the extent of her aspirations. She was the embodiment of conquest - a true matriarch in the making! He had heard before that each Fatalis embodied a certain concept or feeling of their choosing, and that idea seemed to ring true now, at this greatest of meetings. He may not have understood the monarch's drive of conquest completely, for his was a path yearning for absolute destruction, but he could not help but be attracted to her will to dominate.Â
He nodded his head approvingly to the monarch's words, "You are quick to comprehend the true beauty of conflict. Truthfully, often the outcome makes little difference; it is, as the humans have written, the 'journey' that defines an experience like battle. If you do not mind me inquiring, what has stood out in your quest for conquest? Ours is a kind that surpasses almost all other creatures in our time in and knowledge of these realms; our combined knowledge must surpass those of even the humans and the ancient father of the tower. Ah yes, that reminds me: have you ever had encounters with the ancestor? The ancient father is not one to leave his throne often, but I have had my . . . dealings with him before."
The Duke and the Hunter
 It had been almost five months since Flagg had discovered the library in the mountains. Before then, he believed the stories about the Duke were just local legend. Now, he thought they were made to explain the presence of the books. But even if the Duke was a myth, why tell people about the piles of ancient tomes? They belonged to someone, even if they were probably long dead, and more importantly, there were many collected sets that he felt should not be separated. But Flagg couldnât just let such books lie unread.
As he approached the cave, he heard someone talking. When he was close to the entrance, he found he knew what was being said. He sat outside, listening to the voice, remembering when his father had read the same tale to him as a child. Once the final lines had been spoken, he began a slow round of applause.
"A fine reading of a great tale. Might I inquire as to the identity of the reader?" He then stood, entered the library, and immediately questioned dropping his guard when he found himself face to face with a Crimson Fatalis. He dropped into a fighting stance as his right hand snapped to his blade but left it sheathed. Soon his mind was connecting the stories of the Duke, to the lounging drake before him, to the fact that he wasnât mostly cinders yet, and his posture mostly relaxed, but his hand never left the sword and his body was tensed and ready to avoid an attack.
Unsoiled by the hands of philistines, the library always seemed to be a haven for Belial. The tomes, in spite of their age, were impeccably preserved and neatly categorized. Whether it be through conquest or scavenging, Belial always made it a matter to acquire any works he may find, thus he amassed a collection that rivaled - or exceeded - the holdings of the guild. There was the occasional incident of an interloper purloining a work or two, but it was always a matter to Belial to retrieve what was rightfully his. This retrieval often left corpses as a product.
The applauding barely registered through the dreamlike veil covering Belial's mind. His body stood, but it was a hollow statue. The story was still going on past its epilogue in Belial's mind: he was surveying the new utopia brought about by the hero. The verdant earth and azure skies had a vivid hue in his mind's eye. In his near delirium, the otherworldly clapping and speech tapped his mind with the most muffled of pressures. He could hear the distorted words somewhat, but Belial was not lucid enough to discern just who what was speaking to him.
But as mind grasped the implications of the question - that this 'reality' was but another tale - the veil slowly gave way. A small chuckle could be heard escaping from Belial; he had just been caught dozing off like a blase child listening to the platitudes of a teacher. His senses were dulled from the sudden return to reality, so as far as he knew, Belial could have been talking to a phantasm. "It is I, Belial, who read that tale. And what a tale it is! From the dawn of time, it seems humans were always off creating something new and just from their nebulous existences. That quality is what makes them a truly marvelous species, and it is also what makes the tale so . . . appealing; wouldn't you agree?"
"The Schrade Legends are a mysterious and powerful hunting unit, often heard of but rarely seen, some say theyâre just legends, like the Fatalis itself which adorns their emblem."
Another Monster Hunter logo hot off the press! This one was a paid for request (to jump the current queue of logos I have) and it was fun to work on! Iâm thinking of starting commissions for Monster Hunter team logos, Iâll post more info when I sort something out :)
Available on Redbubble
"In truth, they exist. I have had my quarrels with the collective, and while I'd much rather prefer a one-to-one confrontation with a hunter, I must give them kudos for their unparalleled skill.
Alas, none have yet to rival my strength. Perhaps that will change soon."
The Duke and the Hunter (Flagg-the-Hunter RP)
The mighty dragon's body crashed straight to the Earth, causing the very ground to shake. Thick, crimson liquid poured out of the open chest of the beast; the liquid stained the arid ground. The armor-clad warrior stared at his sword one last time before the acidic blood corroded it away. A smile emerged on his face, however. The blood destroyed the weapon that slayed its host, but in doing so, the blood would breathe new life into the barren wasteland. Though the battle was violent, and the lives lost valuable, the sight of a single flower blossoming from the blood-stained ground validated everything.Â
"And so, Deroth, mighty warrior, great king, and noble savior, rested alongside the placated dragon. There they would remain forever, monuments to the sacrifice that brought about paradise." Uttered Belial the closing line of the ancient epic. Sometimes, if the work was particularly engaging, he would recite it out-loud. The company of himself and the twinkling stars above enjoyed these times.
He did not seem to notice the irony of this situation. Not that he would have cared for it. 'Belial' didn't exist when inside the book; the fabricated universe seemed to have more corporeal form than he, who was an excited spirit. The reality he called home didn't seem to exist any more than the reality of the books, either. His senses were submerged in fantasy, and his mind jumped to flights of fancies.
This dislocation of body and mind created a surreal scene to any lucid observer. Calamity itself was inert. This phenomenon did not go unnoticed, as word soon spread of this  inexplicable contradiction. The Duke, said the occasionally traveler and the many drunkards, wore a robe of crimson and ruled a kingdom of books. It was an amusing tale after hunts, but not many truly believed it. The entire situation seemed like something of fiction.
How easy it is to forget, then, that fiction is but a replication of reality. And reality is the strangest of things.
Oh? It seems the mighty Chrimson Fatalis is following me. What a surprise! It's usually the other way around. Thanks for being my first follower! Don't try to kill me and we'll get along just fine... until I need a few Evil Eyes that is... Happy Hunting!
"Tsk, tsk, warrior! You, hunter who slays the dragons of fate, should know that the only outcome worthy of our destructive capabilities is a battle to the DEATH! Come, hunter, come! When the volcano roars its loudest, and the meteors signal the end times, our fates shall entangle into a majestically savage calamity! When the time comes, we shall see whose blood lust and depravity shall overcome the other's and win the gloriously pointless prize!"
((Deck the halls with skulls and corpse's~ MERRY CHRISTMAS!))
"A fitting recreation of myself. I recall one time - the same day as this 'Christmas' - a human civilization confused me with one of their mythical deities. They bestowed to me the title 'Krampus', and proclaimed that I would be the one to punish those of dubious morals.
Of course, they never expected me to punish all of them for their insolence. I suppose the idea never occurred to them that they all needed punishment for being...'naughty'.
(Shiro-mun, thank you for the Christmas present <3!! Perfectly shows the ferocity of the Crimson Fatalis! Merry Christmas, and enjoy the - really - roasted peanuts!)
Ultimate proof that new monster is a Fatalis:
Dat tongue lick. Only the mightiest of beast, the Fatalis, can make a simple flick of the tongue something to fear for your life!
Monster Hunter Frontier G3.1 Update Preview www.facebook.com/MHKogath
SWEET GODS HAVE MERCY
[HOWLS]
(Dear lord, Belial's just been outdone. All hail new god Fatalis :O!!)
(alright, bastards, Belial's back.Â
You've had your peace. Now have a nice meteor sandwich and STFU)
(Oh god I should stop watching Twin Peaks it's too good.)
(An Update)
(Alas, 'tis finals week. I'm going to be busy for a week or two, so apologies for the absence as of now. Hope anyone else going through tests will have a good time.)
((Crimson fatalis or as most of my friends say fatalis on its period.))
(Haha, oh you're so funny!
Too bad you're UNFORGIVABLE INSULT has caused Belial to go on another killing spree. Thanks.)
