SMOOCHING MERMAID CRONUS RN. Praying For His Humanification (literally Nothing Tells Me It Would Work)

SMOOCHING MERMAID CRONUS RN. praying for his humanification 🙏 (literally nothing tells me it would work)

(It didn't wwork, but at least he's a happy little guy! :) )

THIS IS DIABOLICAL.

dualscar, did i mention you're probably the best-looking out of all the ancestors?

DUALSCAR: best-lookin?

DUALSCAR: ivwe only got one eye, kid!

*pets dualscarpats pat pat pets pap*

I know how to knit, would anyone like a hat or a scarf?

CRONUS: hey, uh. CRONUS: maybe don't go telling anyone, but... CRONUS: can i hawve a scarf? CRONUS: erisol let me vwear his at one point, an it reminded me hovw much i kinda miss my old one.

hi vyvyan, how is it caring for your other patients?

VYVYAN: --<< It'2 4lright! I h4d 4 whole lo4d of p4tient2 dropped on me 4 few d4y2 4go, 4ctu4lly. They're quite ple424nt, for the mo2t p4rt!I ju2t h4ve to be mindful of who I p4ir up for group 2e22ion2, 42 they were 4ll from the s4me 2e22ion of 2burb. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< You know, th4t g4me re4lly ch4nge2 people. 2o m4ny 4lterc4tion2... They've been beh4ving, though! G4mzee 2eem2 to like them, too. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Wh-- GRIZZY! NO! GET OFF OF 2T4N! 4242. VYVYAN: --<< GRIZZY 2TOP IT! BREATHE- COUNT TO TEN LIKE WE DI2CU22ED! 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Oh th4t'2 4 lot of blood- GRIZZY QUIT IT! HE'2 H2D ENOUGH! 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Don't m4ke me get G4mzee! 4242.

(Please go read 'Stuck...Stuck?'! It is a Sburb based webcomic made by @digitalminstrel , and worked on by @seeingstarzz. @henryscircus and I ! :) its super cool and awesome and in the works currently -> https://mspfa.com/?s=57315&p=1 )

Can march eridan tell us anything abt her backstory?

Vyvyan's recent God tier re-ignition as the Sylph of Mind has travelled further than he expected. Every once in a while, as he focuses on the mind of Dualscar, to keep his anger and defensive violence at bay, a different series of thoughts and memories might walk within the vicinity of his powers, and grant him (and by extension, us as the viewers) glimpses into the pasts of passers by, allowing this fancy schmancy way of answering a very simple ask blog question. Say "purr, thank you Vyvyan!" for giving us this spectacle of a 16 page short comic and written story instead of March looking at the camera and explaining what happened herself.

Long ago, the Prince of Hope trudged an open plain, ingrained in thought, and anger, and upset. His deep trance kept him blind to where he was going, until...

His unintentional collision with the Rogue of Heart sparked conflict. The two had never really had chemistry, or a bond of any kind- no history to mention, but disdain and anger from both sides- not really knowing why. They were stressed, and they saw fit to throw blame on one another. That was all this bunch of trolls ever did. But for the vocal sea dweller- quickly, this escalated, and became too much.

The flood gates had simply been closed a lifetime too long.

The realisation that one was dead usually went over the heads of many ghosts. It can take a while for the revelation to occur, or sometimes, just a moment of understanding. A gentle touch of the hand, or look in the eyes - honesty. Sincerity and bluntness was the harsh reality needed to break that delusion - that seal. Suddenly, none of the arguing mattered. But his feelings were still very, very real.

Together they sat, the rogue having realised that enough was enough - and someone needed help. Even if it was only for a moment. Even if it was someone she didn't know well. Even if she had no advice to offer, and only a loyal, tentative set of kitty ears.

And they played. They played, and played, and played- and quickly did the heart hero catch onto the sheer joy the hope hero discovered within this playing of roles. They got along well after this, and games slowly drifted into becoming their afterlife.

Her journey began here - in a world of roleplay and pretend. She could be anyone she wanted to be - even if just for a session at a time. She found herself here - in a world where she wasn't bound to any heirloom, any responsibility, or false prophecy. She was a kind and sweet girl. She didn't care for murder or blood colour. She had a friend. And she was happy.

And she was not Eridan.

Her name was March.