Project: Royal Rumble - Prologue
A/N: Another attempt at writing Cry and others. I'm still not quite used to writing them, so if they're acting OOC (out of character) then I'm sorry. I'm still learning and pretty rusty in terms of writing fics and stuff.
Rating: PG 13+(Better safe than sorry)
Enjoy and let me know what you think of it.
The soft tapping of rapid finger movement on a keyboard sounded loud in the silence of the room full of equipment. It held several computer stations, a fridge, basic living utilities and a few cots scattered at one corner. But the most unusual piece of the room was the lone chair that sat by a wall of monitors; the chair itself resembled of one from a dentist's office and next to that was some hospital equipment. If nothing else, the room looked as if it belonged in a bunker or underground command center of some sci-fi movie. A group of people milled about that room as well, but kept silent as the typin
Friends? Foes?A/N: I was bored and listened to Rockleetist and Ashe sing Bad Apple... on repeat. Even then listening to it while thinking about Cry and Virus (Or Mad, depending) makes this song fit with them somehow. Weird. Anyway, I decided to kinda have the two sing it together. Though if it does kinda get confusing or awkward... that's my bad, I've never done something like this before really. It was hard for my to match words and meaning of the lyrics with the talking, I just mostly winged it. I think of this right now as an AU of the Cry and Virus I have in my head, or could possibly be something that may happen. Idk, but I do know this doesn't have any real ties with any of the fics I'm writing. It was just something that sat in my head and wouldn't leave alone, so I typed it.
Works best with the music box version of Bad Apple if you want to have the mood right. But either way, its Bad Apple. xD
Rating: G (I guess? There's really nothing bad in here)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Madness and Normality of A Virus: Cryaotic FanficThe town was in ruins. Everything from trash bins to cars to telephone poles was overturned and thrown onto the street or at a house. A lone figure was standing amongst the wreckage. He had brown, messy hair that looked as if it hadn't ever been brushed, a green hoodie, now rather dirty, ripped jeans, and converse sneakers. The strangest part about this person was the white mask with a drawn-on straight faced expression that resided on his face. He looked out of place in the broken remnants of the town he called home. The man simply stood there, his back hunched slightly as if he were staring at something on the ground. In fact, he was. On the cracked asphalt, there were two more out of place objects. A laptop in pristine condition and another pure white, unblemished mask. Both objects seemed to glow in the eerie light of the fires around them. The man then walked closer to the mask. Instead of a straight face, a light blue line like a heartbeat monitor served as the mouth and the
Merry Christmas + premium sub. Dragoniad challengeThank you for all the birthday wishes! I will reply to all but they are so many, it may take a while. I will get to all of them eventually. You guys are great I hope you had a Merry Christmas and I wish you Happy Holidays!
In other news, I have started a series of 12 dragons this Christmas and it would be so much more fun if you guys would join in and do it with me. So I challenge you to a Dragoniad! And to make it worth while I will throw in a three month premium membership for one lucky deviant
So how does this work? I will be drawing 12 dragons but you can draw as many as you like, one or more, depending on how your muse favors you or whatever else is driving your pencil. One drawing is enough to enter the raffle and skill level will not be taken into account. Submit your dragon to dA (pretty obvious but, you know...) and note me with a link to your deviation and I will post a thumb link to your deviation in the artist comment section of my next dragon submission. At the
Red Murderer - Creepypasta Marceline Andersen stared down the street of her neighborhood. He new neighborhood. Her newest neighborhood. She didn't exactly care anymore, they all looked the same to her now. The black asphalt seemed to melt into the concrete curb, which separated the road from the grass, which was cut low enough so a sidewalk showed, clean and white. None of it mattered. Not the street not the houses and especially not the people. It wasn't as if she would try to make friends or anything, she would most likely be gone again in a few months. Marcy despised meeting people. They always looked at her with the same eyes. The eyes that seemed to show nothing but false promises and betrayal. It was never any different. While standing in the open road, she prayed that a car would come speeding around the corner and put her out of her misery. Her luck wasn't good enough, and no driver was careless enough to keep going once they saw her.
Growing bored of the street, Mar