if you got like a 100kilo bag of glitter and opened it up and left it in the path of like a tornado i think that would be interesting. i dont care abt ecological damage btw
I do. 100kg bag of seaweed based glitter.
i dont. 100kg bag of enriched uranium based glitter
wait isnt uranium denser than lead how heavy would a 100kg bag of uranium be
thyrell.
just kill me
Achievement Unlocked:
Find yourself in the dimension of eternal repetitive responses
This is incredibly small but I have noticed that Papyrus' mannerisms of speaking is not often replicated. This is not to shame people who don't use it, keep having fun! Hell, I know I write Sans terribly because I am bad at making up puns, so he doesn’t make any, and I refuse to do full lower/uppercase in my writing. But for anyone curious or wanting to sound canon applicable, here's some stuff:
Examples!
Sans is first, Papyrus second. They also speak in lowercase or uppercase but I can't sustain writing like that 😔
"What's up?" "What is up?"
"Fogetaboudit." "Forget about it!"
" 'm Sans." "I am Papyrus!"
"Dunno." "I don't know!"
"Hey bro." "Hello, brother!"
As a rule of thumb, Sans puts less care in his words, while Papyrus, like everything else he does, will put 110% in it. Also yes I realize this was meant to be for Papyrus only but Sans is actually a really good place to point to compare.
not the twitter migrants putting "reblog heavy" in their bios on here... like yeah. that's what we do here
ALTreblog heavy
hey folks,,,,,... glad 2 b here on tubblr . here's a little self-portrait of me,, a human male
on my way to work at the job factory :) lets get this bread !, and by bre,d i mean human money dollars haha. dont even like bred
feeding the ducks
(disclaimer: i do Not live in thi,s pond. i live in a home House.)
ah . allow me to introduce my two lovely childen . Child and Baby . :) they are both just regular Men just like their old man(me)
We all love urban fantasy but we have to contend with the fact that if monsters were real, some of them would be normies. Your werewolf boyfriend posts on LinkedIn. The tentacled horror you've been thirsting after is a Disney adult.
You did it, you made unimaginable horror within man-made comprehension.
this is a very relatable meme but i cannot stress enough that if you haven’t watched the good place you’re going to be very surprised to learn what words are being replaced here
I’m sorry,
A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one
Nobody in your small coastal village has ever seen the Godmark that you were born with. It’s a dark russet sequence of criss-crossing lines, with a vertical arrowhead on the left and a circle on the right, just over where your brow meets your temple. Some of the traders who come down from the mountain say it looks like one of the scripts used in the hinterlands, but not a language that any of them recognize.
“If she’s got the temperament for it, she should try her luck inland,” they advise. “No point her starting a temple here if she’d find her people elsewhere, with a little searching.”
At first, your parents are reluctant to send you away. Though you’re well-behaved and diligent in your chores, you’re a sickly child with no God to worship. And besides, you’ve always been the dreamy type–inclined to lose track of time watching the path of rain droplets chasing down the window, or the fronds of an anemone as it sways in a rock pool.
Instead, they send you to the temple of the Storm to learn all you’ll need for your own God. You are happy there, for a time: making up beds and serving food to the castaways who pass through, keeping vigil at the lighthouse, burning incense and praying with the loyal widows and orphans of the drowned.
One such widow, an old, old lady, touches the mark on your forehead. “I recognise those letters. We wrote this way in the town where I grew up, way off past the mountains.”
Your heartbeat quickens. “What does it say!?”
She squints, eyes engulfed by wrinkles and hidden behind smudged glass. “A… Ar… Oh, I can’t remember how to speak it. I left before I learnt my letters properly. There was a war, you know. But I remember,” she says, mistily, “the most beautiful pink and white flowers used to grow, on the borders of the wheat fields…”
You try to ask more questions, but remembering the war distresses her, and so you speak of other things. When she’s drifted off to sleep, you get to your feet, go home and tell your parents: you are leaving in search of your God.
she wears sneet snerts was clearly about cutting your arms off to become Rayman
this is literally the only funny comment on this entire post because it is so incomprehensible. thank you
