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Chrisさんのイラストまとめ


follow somewhere else. see website
chjolo.neocities.org/elsewhere

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I'll start.

A Short Hike is free for this week. I haven't played it yet myself, but from everything I've seen & heard, it's fantastic. Anodyne 2 is one I've been meaning to look into for a while, and Mutazione looks interesting!

https://t.co/FGanpj6KBD

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The Bachelor but it's the true Boys instead

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Flooded with adrenaline, I leapt out of cover.
The ghost kept its back to me, snickering as the glass shards around m̷̧̝̀̕y̵̪̥̾͊ your body returned to its arm.
"They should've handled you at the garden... No matter. You won't last long now that you two have met."

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Wearing an urgent expression, it kept looking over it's shoulder and back to me.
It ducked down abruptly and pointed through the grass.
Jubilantly floating along was a familiar giggling spirit, accompanied by someone even more familiar.
It was m̶͚̦̄̋e̵̛̫͖̚ you.

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Networks of nerves and tissue crept up from the neck as it self-reconstructed.
It gasped as it tore two teeth from it's mouth and handed them to me.
They morphed into pen and parchment.
Leaning in towards me, the monster spoke hushed:
“Chronicle your journey“

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In a clearing stood a black mist monster, decapitated.
Spurting vile chokes and gasps, it approached me, pointing to my pocket.
I revealed the key as it morphed back to its original white stone form.
The monster pointed to its throat. I placed the stone inside.

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I found myself at the swamp edge once again.
With every manic heartbeat, I could feel my veins constricting, my throat closing in, my body in anarchy.
I lost control and collapsed, the heavy air laying me to rest.
A pair of eyes shone through the thick haze.

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Dazed, I planted the corpse and followed a queue of workers.
At the front was a sprawling tree glowing brilliant green, locked in eternal summer.
From the branches grew spectral sketches; visions of places in present time.
I plucked one.
In a blink, I was gone.

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A figure entered, identically dressed. It gave an empty stare and silently motioned to follow.
Framed through openings in the stairwell, I could see outside.
An immense cavern blanketed by a garden of glowing spirits.
All were asleep, anchored to their graves.

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Fixed to the wall was line of small hooks.
They were all empty, save for one holding worn rubber gloves, a rusted shovel, and a patchwork hat.
Footsteps began echoing up a spiral stairwell, accompanied by a lamp-lit shadow.
I quickly donned the hanging uniform.

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