Come here, child, let Nanna read you a story.
Now then...
What would you like to hear today?
Table of Contents
Come here, child, let Nanna read you a story.
Now then...
What would you like to hear today?
Table of Contents
Last edited by Whimbrel; 09-07-2011 at 09:48 PM.
Tell me about the rabbits again.
How shadows came to this world~
baby-crazy MIA it's fancy because it's french || plaguemaker fetish character terrible mistake how to be a supervillain in 6 easy steps ghost story maneater || red white wolf || coat bat STARWHALE
SERIOUS ART or FUCKERY?
<Godbot> paul banks is the illest motherfucker please do not hurt me
A tale of a daring thief.
(Avatar thanks to a very sharp windstorm.)
Tell me the one about the raven and the man.
The Story of the Four Giants
The Three Princes and the Firebird
Tell me of the World's End.
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
Why is everything so vague?!?! I swear I am going to flip a LID if I see one more "The Event" or "The Happening" or "Him."
Tell me about George The Destroyer. Tell me about King Slagathor, who ruled with an iron fist and crushed all who dared stand in his way. Tell me about one Miss Alice Skull, the bombshell who destroyed America single-handedly. Tell me a god damn evocative story.
>Tell me about the fall of the gods
Tell me about how county politics led to grandpa losing both his legs (as well as his virginity) on that one fateful day at the farmers' market. I love that story.
> Tell me the story that is beyond all mirrors, the story belonging to the doll with the brightest smile, the story that would go tink if it could break
But day at the farmer's market would be nice, too
Pah, is that the lie he's tellin' nowadays?
Don't you believe a thing that ol' snake tells you, m'dear, not for one second.
Let me tell you a tale with a great deal more truth in it than anything you'll ever hear from your granpappy...
In times long past, it was believed that carrion birds were born from the shadows on the hearts of the dead.
There was a man of that era who had made his living in war. For many years he honed his craft in the blood and cries of his fellow men, and grew quite skilled.
Fortunately for most; no time of war can drag on without end.
For our man of the battlefield, however, this sudden outbreak of peace left him feeling rather devoid of purpose and direction.
Become a farmer, take your goods to the market.
Make your living training the nation's standing army.
(Avatar thanks to a very sharp windstorm.)
ThisBecome a farmer, take your goods to the market
> Man: Consider suicide.
> Man: Become a criminal, specifically a killer for hire.