#cryptid roe post

[lazicalm]

“Deliver me O Lord from the violent man! Preserve me from the violent man!” THAT HE MAY NOT RISE AGAIN by LINGUA IGNOTA

“I am the demon— the holy righteous axe of God.” THE CHOSEN ONE (MASTER) by LINGUA IGNOTA

“Oh, sinner, you’d better get ready. For the time is coming that the sinner must die.” All Bitches Die (All Bitches Die Here) by LINGUA IGNOTA

“I’m the butcher of the world, rise up and I’ll cut you down.” BUTCHER OF THE WORLD by LINGUA IGNOTA

“One is not enough, the heart of man is impossible to hold.” MAN IS LIKE A SPRING FLOWER by LINGUA IGNOTA

“In the dead silence, you can hear your departed mother sing a hymn in church, from 30 years ago. That’s what you get out of the silence.” THE ORDER OF SPIRITUAL VIRGINS by LINGUA IGNOTA

[lazicalm]

Butcher of the world by lingua ignota is really fueling the cryptid roe thoughts… send help!!!!!! Speirs watching the medic scrabble with a German from the distance n right before he can pull his rifle to his chest, watching in dead silence as Roe leaning up and clamping his teeth down on the Germans throat in a moment of wild terror and pulling back sharply!!!!!!! Speirs watching Gene shudder under the limp body of the enemy for a few minutes as the blood covering his jaw and throat cools and dries!!!!!!! Watching as Gene pats through the Germans uniform, taking a handkerchief from his pocket with shaking hands and wiping his face clean before spitting out chunks of sinew!!!!!!!!!!!! Roe flicking his head to look directly at Speirs in the dark when he shouldn’t even be able to see him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO NORMAL!!!!!

The moment they get into parts of France/germany with vultures roe seemingly always has some on his trail!!!!!! In crows nest they will circle his general area or billet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ravens follow him like a one man army knowing death will follow in his foot steps!!!!!! Song birds shudder and go quiet in his wake!!!!! His presence sends mockingbirds and starlings into a doozy!!!!!!!

[lazicalm]

“But all God’s love means nothing now. The bitter blood of many foes sustain me, and heavy is my hammer, swinging ‘round. And soft are their throats, and soft are their skulls..” FRAGRANT IS MY MANY FLOWERE’D CROWN by LINGUA IGNOTA

Bastogne x cryptid roe,

him standing above foxholes in the pitch black, teeth clacking as he closes his jaw. he stares down at men with eyes that glow blood red and pure white in the snow, eyes an almost pitch black instead of the grayish-blue.

luz watching from a foxhole as the medic runs between foxholes, watching in quiet horror as a bullet connects and his body goes limp before he gets up. he watches as bile covers his molars as the skin stitches itself back together and the medic wipes the blood that dripped down the gentle slope of his nose.

in the woods a murder of crows follow his path. they roost above his foxhole in the darkness, cawing in distaste at errant bullets or the off and on flare lighting the sky blue and white.

he packs his gums with herbs from home and moss that has been blown off of trees by mortars like a deer in the depth of winter. when babe hands him food that slowly is congealing his nose will curl in distaste, only eating a few bites before packing his gums and lighting a cigarette.

[lazicalm]

“Above Earth’s lamentation, I catch the sweet though far-off hymn that hails a new creation. No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that rock I’m clinging.” HOW CAN I KEEP FROM SINGING by Reverend Kristin Michael Hayter

Cryptid roe being able to shift in some way with a set amount of animals/forms….. a coyote with a slim rib cage and small hips trailing into fox company in the dead of night and snuffling around the foxholes. A shuddering black wolf watching from the edges of the woods, gazing knowingly at Germans as they peak into the trees. A black cat that walks figure eights between winters legs in a small town. A black horse that grazes calmly as the company walks past the paddock. A melanistic buck traipsing its way through holes and pockets left by mortars with its antlers proudly on display.

He is the kindest sweetest beast in the woods. He whines and gnashes his teeth but will bow his head for gentle fingers to run through the fur on the top of his head. He will nip and bow expecting chase and will sleep curled up at the edges of men’s beds (when Lipton was sick he was the sweetest little cat curled up on his chest (he was afraid that if he wasn’t constantly on top of him he would somehow come back to the room and Lipton would not be with them anymore)).

[lazicalm]

I love writing cryptid roe bc it’s so funny describing him as like some unknown horror n the unknown horror is just looking at winters like

[lazicalm]

This is me telling you that to fully understand the visions I am blessed with by divine beings (cryptid roe) you HAVE TO listen to lingua ignota and reverend kristin michael hayter. When you do it shall ALL make sense!!!!!!! Days of tears and mourning by lingua!!!! It’s the exact clash of holy and horror!!!! Whenever I reference his voice fraying I imagine like the vocal layering in IDUMEA by reverend!!! IM THREATENING YOU TO LISTEN TO HER NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come back afterwards and it shall all make sense!!!!!!!!!