some shit doodles to start off but and idea ive had for a while just never put together fully about a girl named marx that lives on the edge of town at a flower/cake shop. she lives right up by the cemetery (totally great place for buying flowers ikr). her family has had a tradition of protecting the ever growing cemetery from demons that try to eat the souls resting there. up until two years ago her dad had been living with her and being the grave keeper, a demon like totally killed him or whatever, so marx has been alone at the house since.  her job at the shop has gotten overbearing for one person so she put out an ad for help at the shop and erin takes the job, she lives all the way in the city, but shes been laid off for a year and took the job because she couldnt find another one.

wow im babbling, long story short, erins got the hots for marx, and marx grew up hardly ever leaving the house, and since being alone has NEVER left the house or cemetery, so marx helps her get out of her box a little and maybe bone a little who knows shes trying. yeah and erin gets to find out about marxs other job where she slays demons and shit 

Dampé the grave keeper I just realized is a character that’s theme is “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. His face is indeed frightening but he is one of the nicest characters you could ever meet and he is more afraid of you than you are of him. But there’s more to him than that. Dampé never needs or wants to wear a mask no matter how hideous he may look. He does not hide behind a fake personality or a fake smile. Dampé accepts himself and knows that he is a good person with meaning. Looks don’t matter all the time, fairies.

Generator Shenanigans: Garbage Bottle


Another random generator shenanigans. Again, it was from This time, it’s A corpse was found buried in the ground. A crumpled store receipt was found under the floor. The attic was slightly damaged by fire.

“God damn it! Why did I pick this job!?”

A grumpy grave keeper picked up a garbage bottle and put it into his bag of garbage bottles. Today was his first day of work. He didn’t thought it would be a night shift of taking garbage bottles all over the 13 ha of cemetery. It was rather silent and cold that midnight, like 1 A.M.

He walked to the front of a grave. It was rather wide for a grave of one person. The tombstone said R.I.P. Alan Williams. July 21, 1977 - July 21, 2016.

“He died just today. How poor of him.” The grave keeper paid salutations to the grave. After a while, he was about to go away when he noticed something smelling unpleasant from inside the grave. “Aren’t dead bodies usually put into coffins? This one smells like shit.”

He noticed a garbage bottle above the grave ground.

“Who put–I thought it wasn’t here. I’m sure.”

He proceeded leaning closer to the garbage bottle, making sure he didn’t step on the grave soil too hard. He picked the bottle up…

…to reveal a woman corpse lurking away from the ground as he pulled the bottle away.


A female body was found beneath the ground, beneath Alan William’s graves. The grave keeper who found the body said nothing more about it other than, “She came out when I pulled a garbage bottle that appeared out of nowhere!”. The police is still investigating this finding. Meanwhile, the body has been taken to the nearest hospital for autopsy.

Ghina arrived at the front of a rather abandoned house. It was located in the suburbs of that town. She tapped her right foot again and again, as if she was listening to a music with beats or was being impatient waiting for someone. Concealed beneath her headscarf–a pair of earphones.

Al and Dietrich walked to the scene, drawing Ghina’s attention. “You’re late, boys!” Her cute voice greeted the two. “It’s like, 15 minutes!”

“Being early to the criminal scene, I see.” Dietrich bowed down, apologizing. “Sorry to task you waiting as well, Ghina. We got errands from traffic jam that we couldn’t help but to wait for it to finish.”

“Oh my goodness, Dietrich, your ancient tongue strikes again!” Al giggled. “Anyway, Ghin, now that we’re here–we want to know whose house is this?”

“Sure. Remember the female body finding by the grave keeper behind Alan William’s grave?”

The two boys nodded.

“I heard that someone related to Alan Williams lived here. The neighbors said that there was a fight here between a girl and a man before Alan Williams died.” Ghina continued her explanation. “Shortly after Alan’s death, the girl was nowhere to be seen as the man is said to have left the house.”

“When you talk about Alan’s death, why do I get the feeling we’re talking about your Alan’s death?” Al giggled again, remembering that Ghina’s boyfriend shared the same name with the person being discussed about.

“Shoosh, Al.” Dietrich pat him. “Anyway, so why are we here?” Dietrich stared again at the rather old, dusty small house located far from other houses. Trees surrounded the house as it presented a rather eerie feeling for anyone who dares to approach its yard late at night.

“Well, who knows what we can find inside the house? If we find something useful, we can sell it to the police detectives or something for a quick cash!” Ghina jumped, giggling excitedly. “Yay!”

“So I finally know the reason why I can’t refuse when you asked us to come here.” Al joined the jumping, giggling as well. “Yay! All hail broke people!”

Dietrich slapped his forehead and sighed briefly as the three entered the old house.

They had been exploring the whole house for thirty minutes since they entered. First, Ghina was the one who went out of the house, bringing nothing. Dietrich jumped out of a bedroom, meeting Ghina at the house’s front yard, also bringing nothing. Out of surprise, Al rushed to the front yard, bringing a crumbled paper on his hand.

“What is it?” Dietrich asked.

Al rested himself in exhaust, proceeding to hand over the crumbled paper to Ghina and Dietrich. Ghina opened the paper slowly, reveling a store receipt. It detailed the purchase of fifty garbage bottles from a local recyclable items shop. The purchase was dated July 19, 2016.

“A purchase of fifty garbage bottles?” Dietrich’s voice sounded his curiosity just well. “This is getting more interesting. Consider this: Alan died two days after this purchase. Ghin, what was Alan’s death cause?”

“Hmm… If I’m not mistaken, it’s because he was hit on the head by a rather hard, not-sharp thing…”

Al shrugged. “Fifty garbage bottles won’t do a killing even if they fuse. It’ll just be two lame Yu-Gi-Oh monsters fusing to another lame fusion monsters–”

“Polymerization sure is a thing, Al, but what you said caught me more interest.” Dietrich continued rambling. He looked closely to the store receipt. Out of nowhere, he asked Al for his smartphone. He turned on the flashlight, aiming the bright white light at the paper. Al and Ghina watched him carefully.

He revealed a thin, rather oily thumbprint on the paper. “Oil.” Dietrich concluded. “Somebody played with oil and fire.”

“Ah!” Ghina remembered. “Yes! When I was examining the kitchen, I found that the attic was burnt a little.” She recalled what she found when examining. “I thought it was stove or cooking fire, but then again–they have none of them! I’ve checked the place carefully and I found no stoves or things, not even their traces.”

Al clapped his right palm to his left palm, as if he got the idea of something good. “Considering that Alan and his related people have no connection to magic by far, then we have no other in-possible issues, so yeah. Dietrich is right. Someone probably played fire. If they are related to magic, they should have been cremated instead of coffin-ed. They may use the bottles as oil containers—there still are other possibilities, too. Also Ghin, what is the female’s death cause–”

Which Alan we’re talking about?” Ghina replied.

MCR is coming back tell everyone. Tell your mom. Tell your grandmother. Tell your father. Tell your cat. If you don’t have a cat find a cat and tell it. Go to a graveyard and tell the grave keeper dude. Go to your local elementary school and tell the kids.


and i feel bad because i found snails

and slugs

i never see snails or slugs where i live and i found so many and i just.

i just couldn’t contain myself, i’m so sorry mister grave keeper, i just.

i needed to touch every single snail and coo at it i’m sorry