The nuclear war happened so fast, and destroyed so much, that nobody knows, nobody ever knew, whether it was the Russians, the Israelis, President Moncrieff, or Elon Musk who launched the first missiles. And while people may still argue about it, it doesn't matter. The world's irrevocably doomed.
Does this mean the era of fish-post-reblogging is at an end?
I eat paper
Pro tip:
Which type of "what the fuck" monster do you prefer, the lovecraft "I cannot comprehend this as that's terrifying", or the "I can comprehend this and I wish I didn't"?
I'm quite fond of "I thought I could comprehend this but I've just been struck by some Implications and now I'm afraid to comprehend any further"
I wish I could work that fast
'I wonder if you'll recognise the feeling.'
Panel redraw!!!! (but collage and paint)
( @comicaurora )
Interesting how many of these stories follow the pattern of "monster terrorizes town, townsfolk reach accommodation with monster, epic pagan hero or mythical Christendom saint slays or banishes monster." It's fun to headcanon that this is the story as told by the victor, and actually these monsters were symbiotic, providing a defense against transient monsters (Les kaiju, ils se battent).
Maybe even the non-human foods they were fed was a refinement of the original accommodation, and the monsters weren't even eating people at all, by the time Ser Pointyhelmet comes along.
Could be a fun thing to work into a modern narrative: hero comes to town, hero hears about monster, town begs hero not to slay monster, hero slays monster, hero moves on, town gets destroyed by wandering monsters. Or maybe the town forces the hero to stay around and defend them against the transient monster population...
Translation below
The Tarasque dwells in the waters of the Rhone river near the town of Tarascon, where it devours travelers and destroys dikes and dams to flood the Camargue. Saint Martha chained it, and the people of Tarascon killed it.
The ruins of the amphitheaters of Metz were infested by hundreds of snakes. The largest of them, the Graoully, had a venomous breath, a mouth bigger than its body and devoured men. Saint Clement chased it away into the Seille River.
King of serpents, the Basilisk takes many forms throughout history and appears in many tales. One of them takes place at the Gate of Saint-Eloi in Bordeaux, known today for its Big Bell, where a well was occupied by a Basilisk. It petrified with its gaze anyone who went there to fetch water. It was defeated by a man returning from the Egyptian crusade, who petrified the beast with its own gaze using a mirail (mirror).
The Cocatrix is born from a rooster's egg incubated by a toad. The egg has magical properties but must not be broken. People who cross its gaze die immediatly.
Made of wicker and covered in flowers, the Grand Bailla wanders the streets of Reims three days a year and feeds on gold and sweets. It was banished by Archbishop Charles Maurice le Tellier.
The Grand'Goule haunts the marshes of Poitou, the waters of the Clain and the flooded cellars of the abbey of Sainte Croix. It feeds on nuns and casse-museaux (snout-breakers, cakes). Saint Radegonde chased it away with holy water.
In the rivers of the Jura and the Alps there is a group of diverse dragons, the Vouivres. They are generally flying serpents covered in fire and guardians of treasures. Many have for a single eye a gigantic carbuncle with extraordinary powers, desired by those in search of wealth and power.
Hidden in the caves of la Pointe du Roux near La Rochelle, the Rô Beast traps and devours travelers in the coastal marshes. It was impaled by seven heroic pagans from the seas.
Mythical dragon of the Basque Country, Herensuge gave birth to the Sun and the Moon, swallowed all of Creation in ten days then regurgitated it in flames. Now asleep in the mountains, it sucks up flocks and shepherds in his sleep. When it wakes up, it will destroy the world in flames and blood. (illustration)
Durandal is the mythical sword that Charlemagne gave to the knight Roland. Some claim that it was inherited from Hector, the warrior of the Trojan War. At war with the Saracens in the Pyrenées, Roland wanted to break the sword so that it would not fall into the hands of the enemy but Durandal split the mountain. So he threw the sword, which went to stick miles away, in the rock of the town of Rocamadour.
The belief in the Tooth Fairy is widespread in several countries in Europe, and is sometimes amalgamated with La Petite Souris (little mouse). It exchanges baby teeth for money. No one knows what it does with all these teeth.
The Camecruse is a bogeyman that haunts the moors and marshes of Gascony. It is agile, can jump and hide in the night to better devour lost children. No one knows exactly how it feeds.
The caves under the hill of the town of Hastingues are home to Lou Carcolh, a monstrous snail, long, slimy and hairy. Its shell is as big as a house. With the help of its tentacles, it grips people to devour them.
The Questing Beast is hunted by kings and heroes in Arthurian legends. It symbolizes evil, incest, violence and chaos, and takes it name from the loud noises that come out of its stomach, similar to the barking of dozens of dogs.
The fairy Mélusine, cursed princess of Albania, was condemned to change into a snake below the waist every Saturday. She married Raymondin de Lusignan with whom they had 10 prodigious children. But Raymondin broke his promise never to see Mélusine on Saturday : he surprised her in her monstrous form, and she left her family forever.
@is-it-a-man But... if Amaury Guichon makes himself a really, really good pair of wings out of chocolate...
I swear to god one of these days were going to see a video of Amaury Guichon and he's going to be making some wings and they are going to look dope as hell, the detail of each feather will be breathtaking, he'll spray paint them to perfection, but as the video goes on, he's not building any sort of winged creature, just the wings. And then there's a human-sized harness (also made of chocolate, somehow, he can do it). And he's attaching the wings to the harness. And he's putting the harness on and he demonstrates how he can flap the wings. And then he'll be off. Out the window and up and up and up. And we'll be looking at the livestream (it's a livestream now) and we'll scream "No, Amaury, the sun! It's going to melt the wings!". But he knows this already. And he is free.
It's a talking coin.
Sounds interesting, right?
Well, it's a tiny, tiny copper piece, much smaller than a modern penny, and it only says one thing, over and over.
"I am groat."
I have thousands of shitposts, rants, and essays sitting in notebooks, left over from decades of not using social media or having many friends. Hold on tight.
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