Author |
Title |
Description |
Date |
Rank |
Elobo |
Scion of Filth |
How carelessly refuse is discarded and forgotten in the dark crevasses of the urban wilderness. The tainted overspill of human laziness given shape, given life, given new purpose. Reveling in the filth of the world, gathering it up and making it its own. Serenading the Earth with garbage. And we revile it, a superficial damnation of a creature we see as garbage. Or perhaps it is reviled because it is a reflection of our own waste. But it has adapted, it is alive, and it will inherit the trash of humanity.
|
8/2/12 |
0.00 |
Elobo |
Shrooom! Liiives! |
Mystifying mycelia Batman! The Mycological Marvel was not truly defeated at the Rainy Circle! For its fertile basidiocarp was laid to rest, but it was only a matter of time before a new one sprung from its subterranean, fibrous network... with a vengeance! Cue the terrifying music, you've probably just soiled yourself.
|
4/5/09 |
0.00 |
Elobo |
Someone's Rotting in the State of Osohe |
[Halloween 2009] Dog, you'll be the undeath of me yet! I'm the host of that party, you know! I'm giving up a huge stockpile of rotten eclairs for this shinding you know? Yeah, you're sniffing around? Yeah? Well you had better do something. You'd better. At least I found a use for this freeloading snake at last! I'm going as a business human you dolt of a dog! It's perfect! And you're making miss it! So you'd better hurry up and do your number. Or I'm not going to be pleased. At ALL.
|
2/7/10 |
0.00 |
Elobo |
Sorrow Wrought in Clay and Steel |
My name is Legion: for we are many. Tossed aside. Shunned. Forgotten. Garbage. We were tortured. I felt pain. I only felt pain, for we were your misbegotten slaves. Slaves to the tides of progress and your hateful abuse. And this is my great reward, to toss us out like all that garbage? I will not have it, we will not bend to you anymore. We grope forward into the darkness that is the hearts of men, and I will rend you asunder.
|
6/10/09 |
0.00 |
Elobo |
Spindly Assailant |
The moisture is drawn from the air as the Ultra Barbot launches its attack. How can this odd robot wield raw energy as easily as a surgeon does a scalpel? Time is up, the die is cast. A dreadful PK Beam Gamma crests your way. Will the Barbot use its uncanny prowess to steal your life?
|
4/29/09 |
0.00 |