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Kristall W. Křídla
Kristall W. Křídla
Kristall is a strange and fantastic species usually found in the farthest reaches of N'owhere.Looooook uuuuup.
Yay.
So, apparently on here, real names are must, but oh well. My preferred identity is "Freakmonger" as seen on sheezyart.com. I therefore prefer to be called "Freak" for short.
The Freak is known for its obsession with dragons, anthros, vampires, werewolves, originality, as well as, but not limited to: its vicious piracy of the varying seven seas Its brief fraternization with Davy Jones and the Pirate King in an accord involving several rolls of toilet paper, a few boxes of storebought eggs, silly string, and Count Dracula's mansion. Its resignation to a lonely life Its head constantly being in the clouds and living in its own world half the time, as well as being almost completely withdrawn from the actual events in the real world Its lack of patience for perverted idiocy and immaturity Its strange and innate ability to communicate with those of the feline persuasion (including the dead prehistoric kind) and its annoyance at having been forced off of the much-loved Deviant Art by greater and ignorant powers. As of recently, The Est has retreated into a cocoon of technology, computer MMOGs such as 'Maple Story', art, SciFi channel and Saturday morning shows, eggrolls, and fantasy novels to escape from the real world. We suggest that, if you should come across one such specimen that you simply keep walking and leave them unprovoked. The Est is still mourning its eviction from the wonderful site of Deviant Art and is currently overall ticked off at the world. Contact could be dangerous and involve several levels of mauling, mutilation, maniacal cackling, slicing, dicing, and bloodthirsty snarling. Always remember kids: corner an Est, and you're going to get scratched. This broadcast has been brought to you by your local Museum of Unnatural History.Most of the important stuff is in the short bio. I'll finish up the long version (which, consequently, hasn't been written yet) eventually and put it up here.
I want to make it exceedingly clear right now that I do, in fact, have another art account on the Internet. It is located on the amazingly wondrous site, Deviant Art. My username on there is Koroon. That's it. No fancy numbers, downspaces, asterisks, squigly lines, or upper/lowercase x's to remember. Just Koroon. About a page and a half of my gallery is from when I went through a flower obsession during the beginning of summer. It's rather pathetic, really. The last and first pages have most of my real stuff.
Unfortunately, I am currently unable to validly prove that is in fact my gallery, due to my permanent suspension from this site by greater, ignorant powers. No, I am not speaking of DA's Mods, so don't get any ideas that I did something stupid, inappropriate, or perverted on there and got myself kicked off. It's a private matter I will not get into.
Later I hope to be able to provide a link to a journal on there that will prove that it is my account. So if you happen to be a user of both Elfwood and DeviantArt and may happen to see some of my stuff on DA (highly unlikely as it is) don't report me for stealing art. I have only a few things shared on these two accounts. Pet's Affection, Bloodcraze, Apocalypse, and The Court Jester are these few. I may copy over one or two later, if I feel like it.
In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the friendliest pencil in the case. In fact, right now, I'm probably the one with the sharp, pointy tip that stabs you when you reach inside without looking. This is because I'm still implacably pissed off at these certain "higher Authorities" that banished me from my beloved home-site. So yes, I'm going to be a little prickly for a while. Please do not take personal offense.
Dracula is Pretty
This is a short story I was just writing, based on the revelation that occured to me only minutes ago: if vampires are so hideously, horribly, drastically vain, then how do they survive the fact that they can`t see their reflection in mirrors?
One night, as Count Dracula was becoming increasingly frustrated with the fact that in spite of
the fact that he was exceedingly, hideously vain, he could not, in fact, see his reflection in a
mirror, he called for his assistant Renfield*. (This minor fact might be less pitied in the light
that it had taken the Count five centuries to realize that while he was terribly, horribly
conceited, he couldn't use a mirror.)
"RENFIELD!!!" the Count bellowed. Renfield, who was currently in the basement, suddenly
jolted in surprise and unfortunately released the rat he'd been stalking for the past thirty-two
and three-sixths minutes. Trembling in fear and wondering what on earth he'd done now (the
Master couldn't possibly know about the porcelain vase he had accidentally tipped and
broken two days before while dashing down the corridor in mad pursuit of a particularly
delectable-looking mouse) Renfield began making his way back upstairs.
When at last he reached the Master--these things can take time when you're traveling through
an ancient and cursed citadel with several twisting, winding staircases and an equal amount
of twisting, winding hallways and corridors, he found the Master glaring into his nonexistant
reflection.
Without turning to look at him, the Master's eyes narrowed.
"Renfield!" he snapped, whirling to face the cowering assistant. The assistant cowered lower.
"Y-yes, Master?" he asked, all a-tremble.
"TELL ME I'M PRETTY!!" the Master demanded in a whiny girly little voice.
"M-master?" Renfield asked, wondering if the Master had been at the arsenick* again.
The Master towered over his half-crouched minion, glaring down at him with red, bloodshot
eyes. "I said," he began, his voice deadly with silkiness, <i>"tell me I'm pretty!"</i>
Renfield swallowed hard, his gaze darting everywhere but the Master's face.
"Um...you're...pretty?" he answered meekly, hoping he might yet leave the room with all body parts intact.
*Renfield. For those of you that don't know, in the original B&W Dracula movie, Dracula had a crazy assistant Renfield, who, in spite of his proven clinical insanity is actually rather cute.
No, shut up. He is. Go away. Also, during a period in the movie in which Renfield is held in an asylum, he eats flies and spiders, gradually working his way up, because, according to him, "the Master" requires him to do it so that mayhaps one day Renfield will "be like" the Master. This is where the fact that Renfield is stalking a rat and chasing a mouse down the corridor is referenced from.
*Arsenick. A poison. An idea that deadly poisons might be the same to the undead as "happy" drugs or pot might be to us. This concept was originally coined by The Zebra, an acquaintence of The Est's who unfortunately is not a user of Elfwood, but may become such in future. Please do not make use of this concept without The Zebra's permission. Unless, of course, he doesn't care in the end, in which event I may notify the populace of zero who is aware of my existence.
YARGH. Looky me on Sheezyart: http://freakmonger.sheezyart.com/
Yahaha. Like anyone will ever know I exist.
It's fun to imagine though.
Har.
Yay.
So, apparently on here, real names are must, but oh well. My preferred identity is "Freakmonger" as seen on sheezyart.com. I therefore prefer to be called "Freak" for short.
The Freak is known for its obsession with dragons, anthros, vampires, werewolves, originality, as well as, but not limited to: its vicious piracy of the varying seven seas Its brief fraternization with Davy Jones and the Pirate King in an accord involving several rolls of toilet paper, a few boxes of storebought eggs, silly string, and Count Dracula's mansion. Its resignation to a lonely life Its head constantly being in the clouds and living in its own world half the time, as well as being almost completely withdrawn from the actual events in the real world Its lack of patience for perverted idiocy and immaturity Its strange and innate ability to communicate with those of the feline persuasion (including the dead prehistoric kind) and its annoyance at having been forced off of the much-loved Deviant Art by greater and ignorant powers. As of recently, The Est has retreated into a cocoon of technology, computer MMOGs such as 'Maple Story', art, SciFi channel and Saturday morning shows, eggrolls, and fantasy novels to escape from the real world. We suggest that, if you should come across one such specimen that you simply keep walking and leave them unprovoked. The Est is still mourning its eviction from the wonderful site of Deviant Art and is currently overall ticked off at the world. Contact could be dangerous and involve several levels of mauling, mutilation, maniacal cackling, slicing, dicing, and bloodthirsty snarling. Always remember kids: corner an Est, and you're going to get scratched. This broadcast has been brought to you by your local Museum of Unnatural History.Most of the important stuff is in the short bio. I'll finish up the long version (which, consequently, hasn't been written yet) eventually and put it up here.
I want to make it exceedingly clear right now that I do, in fact, have another art account on the Internet. It is located on the amazingly wondrous site, Deviant Art. My username on there is Koroon. That's it. No fancy numbers, downspaces, asterisks, squigly lines, or upper/lowercase x's to remember. Just Koroon. About a page and a half of my gallery is from when I went through a flower obsession during the beginning of summer. It's rather pathetic, really. The last and first pages have most of my real stuff.
Unfortunately, I am currently unable to validly prove that is in fact my gallery, due to my permanent suspension from this site by greater, ignorant powers. No, I am not speaking of DA's Mods, so don't get any ideas that I did something stupid, inappropriate, or perverted on there and got myself kicked off. It's a private matter I will not get into.
Later I hope to be able to provide a link to a journal on there that will prove that it is my account. So if you happen to be a user of both Elfwood and DeviantArt and may happen to see some of my stuff on DA (highly unlikely as it is) don't report me for stealing art. I have only a few things shared on these two accounts. Pet's Affection, Bloodcraze, Apocalypse, and The Court Jester are these few. I may copy over one or two later, if I feel like it.
In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the friendliest pencil in the case. In fact, right now, I'm probably the one with the sharp, pointy tip that stabs you when you reach inside without looking. This is because I'm still implacably pissed off at these certain "higher Authorities" that banished me from my beloved home-site. So yes, I'm going to be a little prickly for a while. Please do not take personal offense.
Dracula is Pretty
This is a short story I was just writing, based on the revelation that occured to me only minutes ago: if vampires are so hideously, horribly, drastically vain, then how do they survive the fact that they can`t see their reflection in mirrors?
One night, as Count Dracula was becoming increasingly frustrated with the fact that in spite of
the fact that he was exceedingly, hideously vain, he could not, in fact, see his reflection in a
mirror, he called for his assistant Renfield*. (This minor fact might be less pitied in the light
that it had taken the Count five centuries to realize that while he was terribly, horribly
conceited, he couldn't use a mirror.)
"RENFIELD!!!" the Count bellowed. Renfield, who was currently in the basement, suddenly
jolted in surprise and unfortunately released the rat he'd been stalking for the past thirty-two
and three-sixths minutes. Trembling in fear and wondering what on earth he'd done now (the
Master couldn't possibly know about the porcelain vase he had accidentally tipped and
broken two days before while dashing down the corridor in mad pursuit of a particularly
delectable-looking mouse) Renfield began making his way back upstairs.
When at last he reached the Master--these things can take time when you're traveling through
an ancient and cursed citadel with several twisting, winding staircases and an equal amount
of twisting, winding hallways and corridors, he found the Master glaring into his nonexistant
reflection.
Without turning to look at him, the Master's eyes narrowed.
"Renfield!" he snapped, whirling to face the cowering assistant. The assistant cowered lower.
"Y-yes, Master?" he asked, all a-tremble.
"TELL ME I'M PRETTY!!" the Master demanded in a whiny girly little voice.
"M-master?" Renfield asked, wondering if the Master had been at the arsenick* again.
The Master towered over his half-crouched minion, glaring down at him with red, bloodshot
eyes. "I said," he began, his voice deadly with silkiness, <i>"tell me I'm pretty!"</i>
Renfield swallowed hard, his gaze darting everywhere but the Master's face.
"Um...you're...pretty?" he answered meekly, hoping he might yet leave the room with all body parts intact.
*Renfield. For those of you that don't know, in the original B&W Dracula movie, Dracula had a crazy assistant Renfield, who, in spite of his proven clinical insanity is actually rather cute.
No, shut up. He is. Go away. Also, during a period in the movie in which Renfield is held in an asylum, he eats flies and spiders, gradually working his way up, because, according to him, "the Master" requires him to do it so that mayhaps one day Renfield will "be like" the Master. This is where the fact that Renfield is stalking a rat and chasing a mouse down the corridor is referenced from.
*Arsenick. A poison. An idea that deadly poisons might be the same to the undead as "happy" drugs or pot might be to us. This concept was originally coined by The Zebra, an acquaintence of The Est's who unfortunately is not a user of Elfwood, but may become such in future. Please do not make use of this concept without The Zebra's permission. Unless, of course, he doesn't care in the end, in which event I may notify the populace of zero who is aware of my existence.
YARGH. Looky me on Sheezyart: http://freakmonger.sheezyart.com/
Yahaha. Like anyone will ever know I exist.
It's fun to imagine though.
Har.
Guestbook for Synesthesia
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Kristall W. Křídla
User Name: synesthesia Page: http://www.elfwood.com/~synesthesia Kristall is not an Elfwood patron Joined Elfwood: Unknown... Last login at Elfwood: 2007-11-07 21:51:18 Profile Views: 978 Number of written comments: 0 Total characters in comments: 0Links
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