Slenderman

Because it had to happen at some point. Whether this is therapy or not... images, stories, JACK YELLING AT MIMI, this all goes here...

...

Am I the only one who's seen this and not freaking out?

He kinda reminds me of a mix between Pedo-Bear *shiver* and Jack Skellington.

I guess I just don't really... get scared. But he's kinda cool in a freaky, ohmygawd-he's-gonna-get-me kinda way. But now I'm going to see him everywhere.

And Fini, I agree: Keroro Gunso songs are the best therapy in the universe~. Watching the Leek Spin is good, too...

On the subject of 'yelling', those Angry Orange Marble Hornets parody vids were... very funny~

Possible Parallels for the http://asura-ista.livejournal.com http://dr-finitevus.livejournal.com http://dr-phineas.livejournal.com http://poe-thesmall.livejournal.com Continuity

-Asura: Slenderman
-Poe: Masky
-Wechnia: Hoodie (XP couldn't think of another name for him)... maybe
-Finitevus: Alex
-Phineas: Jay
-Zachary: ?
-Ix: ?
-Finitevus' Unborn Child: .... I dunno
-Phaedonas: Sadly relegated to that Jessica chick, maybe?

Even though it makes more sense that Asura were Masky, and someone like Enerjak were Slendy, as one has a mask, and the other has real tentacles sprouting out of them... (or Shivasu, who grows arms *is hit*)

Doom: Random bystander/non-believer.

:'D Because you know it's true...;;;
SILLY SILLY DOOM.
Or lol. Doom could be the tentacles themselves. Just...the tentacles and nothing else XDD!!!

Doom's just pissed because he's not part of the albino harem.

Turbo wrote:Doom's just pissed because he's not part of the albino harem.

BLACK IS THE NEW WHITE.
...
... IT JUST HASN'T CAUGHT ON YET DX

Black Doom wrote:

BLACK IS THE NEW WHITE.
...
... IT JUST HASN'T CAUGHT ON YET DX

POPPYCOCK.

FACE IT DOOM, YOU WANT DEM TENTACLES COMIN' YOUR WAY.

EDIT: ACTUALLY, YOU COULD TAKE MY SHARE OF TENTACLES. I THINK I'D LIKE MY LIFE BACK.

EDIT 2: MY CAP LOCKS KEY SEEMS TO BE BROKEN

Dr. Finitevus wrote:
POPPYCOCK.

FACE IT DOOM, YOU WANT DEM TENTACLES COMIN' YOUR WAY.

EDIT: ACTUALLY, YOU COULD TAKE MY SHARE OF TENTACLES. I THINK I'D LIKE MY LIFE BACK.

EDIT 2: MY CAP LOCKS KEY SEEMS TO BE BROKEN

OH HE HAS ENOUGH TENTACLES TO LAST HIM FOR A WHILE~
HE AND SHADOW.

BUT THEN AGAIN.
THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MANY TENTACLES. >D~

Thursday night, when I fell asleep early, and woke dehydrated, with an intense swollen pain in my neck from scratching at it in my sleep, and a continual and relentless itching, was the sole Slenderdreams.... such pure terror just in a presence.... Outside my window. Outside my window in my dreams.

Was woken, choking, by a dark silhouette and bright light.... a tall, dark, obscured silhouette. My father almost provoked a heart attack checking in. I've never had a Slenderdream/nightmare like this before... =_=;;;

D:!! Poor Jackieeeee *huggles chu*

Turbo wrote:Thursday night, when I fell asleep early, and woke dehydrated, with an intense swollen pain in my neck from scratching at it in my sleep, and a continual and relentless itching, was the sole Slenderdreams.... such pure terror just in a presence.... Outside my window. Outside my window in my dreams.

Was woken, choking, by a dark silhouette and bright light.... a tall, dark, obscured silhouette. My father almost provoked a heart attack checking in. I've never had a Slenderdream/nightmare like this before... =_=;;;

OAO
Ho-lee s***, Jack...
STAY CALM, WHATEVER YOU DO. BREATHE EASY. WE'RE HERE FOR YOU DX

I think it was because I was sick and sleep deprived. It was fun explaining to my counselor who wanted to know if I had slept well and harmed myself in my sleep. Depressives are supposed to harm themselves in their sleep??? *eyebrow raise*

I had her look it up on google. ^^ She thinks I'm a right psychopath now.

"Found Poem"

As an assignment in our class, we are given 10 poems, and told to make a new poem by taking lines from them, in their completion and entirity without any alterations, and present this. The topic was supposed to be about the perfect woman, but with my generally morbidly focused mentality, how am I supposed to write poetry about a damn woman from all this feminist poppycock??? Aye, so I'll make a tribute to Slendy....

Thusly so, there's a few "she"s imbedded in there - wherever those are, just mentally put "Slendy". This is written from the Rake's perspective, as a man that once feared the Slenderman, and now loves him. I'm presenting it without the unnecessary annotation or citation, as the class had required, since you don't need the list of the poems to worry yourself over. >>;; I only concentrated on, I think, 5 out of the 10, to keep it as nice and similar as possible.

It is almost too long ago to remember-
But who would count eternity in days?
to woundlike memories:
no longer knew or loved...

I can't remember, anymore,
Such sweet neglect more taketh me.
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
avenged in part for lifelong hidings
All is not sweet, all is not sound.

a person, really, like a figure standing in a field,
alone, dark against the pale crop
Still to be neat, still to be dressed
Give me a look, give me a face
distant blobs of faces at twilight.
She was the Sickle; I, poor I, the Rake
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
Let me rest tonight.

I can't remember, anymore,
to wrench free, the blows, the fear
pursues and corners him
The children were there, they were shadowy figures
a tree, exhausted, purge --

Words could not bring, the face that I
No longer knew or loved...
Cold icy kisses and
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;
over you glutinous, streaked, slimy

Cover me with white
instant when I gave my life to them
and I stood with them outside the universe

I can't remember, anymore
You're all that I can call my own.
Well it is over now, it is over
Consummation at last.

Grimly delightful, Jack! I love that so much! *w*

DON'T YOU EVER TRY TO COMPARE YOURSELF TO ANYONE, LET ALONE TRY TO MAKE SOMETHING OF MY GODFORSAKEN POETRY "SKILLS". EVEREVEREVEREVEREVER.

NNNNO.
YOU DO NOT DO THAT. >[

*blink, blink* dis is sexy, Jackie~~~

*shy blush* Danka....

One cold twisting arm draped about the shoulders. He walked and walked and walked until the trees obscured the light outside. Thorns scratched at his face and limbs, but he didn't flinch, and the brambles and sharp branches moved out of his way, forming a dark tunnel inside.

Above, the moon hung low, orange, a harvest moon. It is said that at these times, the ancients would sacrifice their lambs and their prisoners in tribute to the crop gods and in thanks and preparation for the bounty before them.

He was led inside, with encouragement from the other, eyes half-lidded and dull, but concentrating on the path before them, not the moon above, unobscured by the clouds normally indicative of the season, and not the face of the Other. His bare feet were cut by the cruel stones below in the untrawled, forgotten sections of the old wood, and he left a steady trail of bloody splotches and drops as he walked along, but even this did not slow his steady shambling only made him stumble a bit more.

The Other brought him past an overgrown graveyard, vines overtaking the slumped wrought iron fencing, marble and limestone gravestones greyed, tilted at strange angles, but none ever falling over...

The dates read 1850, 1830, 1842, 1816... he did not read them. Dark green leaves stuck to his feet from the vines as he walked to the grander graves, the mausoleums, the broken statues of children, doves, small animals, angels of every variety gazing on with impassive faces.

This was the Other's place, and in the branches above were his trophies, worn and white, or fabric, in degrees of weathering and fray, in colours of every shade. The older were dull, of course, as was considered propriety. But he did not look up. And the Other led him to the stone tomb, flat and level, stained with something undefinable, which was his altar, and the forest consumed its sacrifice.

No one ever looked for him. No one remembered. No one noticed any blood, for it was a path that did not exist.

The moon went down red-orange, full, and its purpose fulfilled, for it was known as the Blood Moon.

And the faceless Other with the long cold limbs and the insatiable hunger, added another trophy to his collection.

Happy Halloween to All.

Marble Hornets #51. My skin is electric, and I know fear again. O3O

Turbo wrote:Marble Hornets #51. My skin is electric, and I know fear again. O3O

I jumped so much during that part, man...
The first black-screen distortion actually made me jump and go "UWAGH GAWD" out loud. @~@

Burned out old office places, man...stay awayy from those...not only are they walking health hazards but...
TEH SLENDY COME GETCHA

That was a fun ride, though. Uwah. Can't wait to see 52!! >w<;;;;

Slendy has always been after Alex's sex since the start. Alex is just killing everyone now so only he can get Slendy. Masky (Tim) and Hoodie (Maybe Brian? Maybe Seth? Maybe Sarah???) somehow survived, and are part of the Slenderharem. They're trying to recruit Jay. Also, they think he's rather fetching, and want playtime too. :3>

Turbo wrote:Slendy has always been after Alex's sex since the start. Alex is just killing everyone now so only he can get Slendy.

HE WANTS TO GET SLENDY SO BAD
THAT WHEN A RANDOM DUDE FINDS HIM IN A LITTLE TUNNEL
HE BASHES HIS HEAD IN WITH A ROCK >W<

THAT'S DEDICATION IF I'VE EVER SEEN EET <333

Black Doom wrote:

Turbo wrote:Slendy has always been after Alex's sex since the start. Alex is just killing everyone now so only he can get Slendy.

HE WANTS TO GET SLENDY SO BAD
THAT WHEN A RANDOM DUDE FINDS HIM IN A LITTLE TUNNEL
HE BASHES HIS HEAD IN WITH A ROCK >W<

THAT'S DEDICATION IF I'VE EVER SEEN EET <333

K: *3* Papa~ I'll kill everyone else who touches you... *throwing rocks at Shadow nao*

(SORREH, COULD NOT RESIST)