[Keclo Jaxyn]

A scarecrow that's lost their mind - a dark twist on the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz. They've also got a crow bro.

Code: Select all

Name:
Personality:
Nightmare: (Real, random or specific to this adoptable!)
Artwork: (Optional - but will raise your chances!)

Ends on March 3rd!

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[~Catherine~]

well i'm scared now.....

[Mimu]

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🌚🌚🌚

Name: Scrol

Personality:
Rude; He is rude to people who come to him, He shows in the night and follows them, Showing them around and Being rude for them. Unfair to them and giving them bad luck for a day making them lose what they love and they care about.
Nice to his bird friends; He loves his birds they follow him and care for him so her cares for them. If any hurts them he will come for them.
Get of my law; Stupid teens
fearless: He's never scared of anthting only fire.
selfish: What selfish people do.
Soon.

-X-

Little story:
A little girl call lilly she made him scrom with all her love. She loved him so much that she lived is a house that she made him in. Lilly grow up she was 26 at the time she was feeling real sick she went to the hopital and found out she had cancer. It was the last day for Lilly she went up to Scrol and hugged him, her feelings went to scrol so he come alive. Lilly died, she was hugging scrol when she saw gone. The family of lillys had to move out from the house that she lived in so they moved. Scrol had no one to love and trust, a crow came to him pecking at the seeds in the ground, Scrol moved to the crow. The crow jummped on scrol shoulder. He give hit a smile and named the crow her Lilly. Lilly and scrol are best friends.

-X-
How they be come hunted

1998, July , 17.

Some teens came to the old house they started to kick things around. They where recording what they were doing. They saw yellow eyes in the darkness they just ignored it and kept on doing it. Crows where all around them but still they just ignored it. Tapping sounds and foot steps walk throw the halls ways. They started to get scared, They tried to go out side but they can't crows with sharp claws was all around them. Scrol came out from the darkness he started to be rude and sassy to them, he gave them the yellow eye of death. The Teens ran for deer life back to the car. 5 Teens where missing and they where never found.

-X-

Nightmare:
Whilst investigating the death of a local author, a courageous cleaner called Molly Khan uncovers a legend about a supernaturally-cursed, warped sausage circulating throughout London. As soon as anyone uses the sausage, he or she has exactly 28 days left to live.

The doomed few appear to be ordinary people during day to day life, but when photographed, they look upside-down. A marked person feels like a creepy frog to touch.

Molly gets hold of the sausage, refusing to believe the superstition. A collage of images flash into her mind: a quiet rat balancing on a cold author, an old newspaper headline about a dancing accident, a hooded Owl ranting about elbows and a drinking well located in a wild place.

When Molly notices her toenails have frog-like properties, she realises that the curse of the warped sausage is true and calls in her friend, a doctor called Sophia Thomas, to help.

Sophia examines the sausage and willingly submits herself to the curse. She finds that the same visions flash before his eyes. She finds the quiet rat balancing on a cold author particularly chilling. She joins the queue for a supernatural death.

Molly and Sophia pursue a quest to uncover the meaning of the visions, starting with a search for the hooded Owl. Will they be able to stop the curse before their time is up?

-Trying to make it little bit funny > U <-

Artwork:

🌚🌚🌚

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[Nanorat]

Name:

Vooger

Personality:

The best word to describe Voo's personality is "unstable". He goes from uncontrollable rage to bitter compassion in the matter of seconds; that makes him an actually dangerous monster as he's absolutely unpredictable, his mind working in a way no monster hunters can comprehend. There is only one thing he's always steady at - it's his aiming for power. An evil-overlord-wannabe, this scarecrow is raising an army of abominable vegetables to take over the world. He deeply loves his minions and is very upset when some of them are hurt in fighting.
(I even have possible minions:)

When in not-overlord mood, he can be social, friendly and even kind; but it only lasts for a short time. The only reason his soft side could stay emerged for longer periods of time, is when he finds someone he's truly comfortable with; like a plant fan similar to himself he can discuss gardening with. But even in his calmer state he remains highly prone to outbursts of mood changes, and every smallest thing can trigger him.

Origin:

Vooger's creation was an accidental one. Untill one day, he was nothing but a plain inanimate scarecrow in a field, but then, a young rogue mage was passing by the farm. He was on the run with a bundle of stolen magical goods, and hid in the field when guards appeared on the road. In last desperate try to avoid being arrested, he hid all the stolen goods in the only place they wouldnt be easily spotted - inside a scarecrow! It appeared to be a great place to him, straw making everything inside absolutely invisible; you could only find things inside if you reached your hand in. Sadly for the mage, he was arrested even without the stolen goods, and taken away by the guards and angry farmers. Magical trinkets and amulets stayed in the scarecrow, and during the next autumn thunderstorm lightning hit the lonely pole in the middle of the field and triggered one of the soul gems inside him. The soul within awoke with no memories of it's previous life, broken and twisted, but conscious and driven by a purpose - to take over the world.

Crow Bro:

The crow's (or, rather, common raven's) name is Bak, and he serves Vooger as a trusty herding dog. Pretty literally - he shepherds the minions and keeps an eye on them so they dont wander away or get attacked by something. Not only that, but Bak also behaves much like a dog - like bringing slippers and burying bones. He orphaned very early and grew up hiding in Vooger's hat, observing the farmers dog from afar, picking up it's habits. He doesnt feel any kinship with other ravens and crows and when meeting any, will hiss and caw at them in a very "barking" style.

Nightmare:

An actual nightmare-ish dream Ive had tonight no less. O.O Sorry, giant wall of text, it was a long nightmare!

Ive found myself being a rat in glass container, in what looked like to be laboratory. Yet I strongly felt I was a human before! I panicked, trying to remember how I got here. All I could recall was going to a big company for job interview, then.. Im a rat. There were many other rats in glass cages around, all frantic, squeaking and thrashing. Many people were somehow turned into rats!
Some time passed and scientists came for us. They took me and another girl rat kept in cage next to mine (Ive learned her name was Marsha when we were in cages) and carried us over to laboratory. They were going to put us through a labyrinth - but unlike of rat one, it was much more complicated with written riddles on the walls to solve. It seems they were testing if our education transferred over to the rat brain. I could see it from the carrier box, but when scientist opened it, I managed to bite him so suddenly he lost the grip for a second, and I could squirm out. He dropped the other carrying box while trying to catch me, and Marsha also broke free. We flounced away from him as fast as we could; he yelled for help but we managed to reach ventillation shaft the very second other scientists rashed into the room.
We ran as fast as we could, but soon after reaching bars leading outside we realised we're on 50+ floor of a skyscraper, with nothing but flat wall going many feet to all sides; we had to turn back and seek a way to get down somehow. The shafts were too smooth to traverse them vertically, so reluctanctly and with great fear, we had to sneak back into the compartment. It was a frightening chase, we kept being spotted because all personnel on the floor was looking for us. We managed to get down several floors through evacuation stairs, there were no lights turned on there so they couldnt see us, but sadly it didnt lead all the way down to ground, ending with entrance to a big hall. There was sort of a school on this floor; with classes filled with kids studying. We rashed to ventillation again, and to our luck, kids in the class were young enough to be on animals side rather than scientists; when asked if they have seen us, they pointed at a different direction. This time, the shaft took us to a wall strengthened with iron beams, wide enough for us to walk on them.
We sadly didnt consider how strong the wind is and how small rat bodies are. Barely making two feet of progress, I was nearly blown off to a deadly fall; I managed to grab a rivet on the beam, but my light body was thrown from side to side by violent wind. Marsha tried to help by dragging a piece of junk, some cellophane covering blown up here, to help me pull back up, but we were both blown off together with it. Dying from fear, we were carried by rapid wind across the street, but plastic sheet acted like a parachute, and we managed to land on across building's roof with only a few scratches and bruises. There we found ceilling vent and slipped in, still aimed to get down to the ground.
But when inside, we heard the scientists looking for us again! They saw us fall and entered the building, now searching it from bottom to top. Desperate, we sneaked into an apartment - it turned out to be expensive apartments building. It was very luxurious, with carpets and expensive furniture everywhere; the owner it seems was arguing with someone on the phone in bathroom, we could hear water flowing and his high-pitched angry voice. We tried to check if we can traverse the water pipes down, but they were too modern for rats to get through. We returned to corridor and went into the hall to see if we can maybe find a way down on the balcony.
We realised we're being watched when we were already on the middle of the room.. at least five cats were looking at us from all sides. Some lying on sofa, some on the coffee table, some on the floor. We froze in fear, but most cats looked at us with little interest. Only one was obviously hunting, with eyes glowing and stepping lightly towards us - a big male floppy-eared tabby. Marsha was completely paralysed by fear, but I was too agitated to freeze. Ive come so far - I couldnt die just to a stupid cat! Baring teeth and with crazed screech, I charged right at him. The cat didnt expect such reaction, he backed down but we still clashed. He bit me in the side, I ripped his ear and left a nasty scratch on the nose. After a second nose blow he retreated. I grabbed Marsha by the scruff and we both rushed to balcony.. no luck. Glass windows were shut dead.
At that moment, we've heard the owner of the apartment come out of bathroom. He yelled "What?! My kitty, you're bleeding! What happened?" when he saw the cat I fought, and rushed into the hall. There were security cams and monitors and he saw us on recent record. He rushed towards us in pure rage, we were covering in fear in the corner, with nowhere else to run. BUT then suddenly the human started yelling at us, running around the room, in not a very sane way. We soon realised why - as he kept looking at us, his facial features changed. He began transforming into a were-rat - a deformed, scary kind, and even as he fully transformed he kept yelling, but we could understand his words now. He said we shouldnt have come, that rodents nearby trigger his transformation and now he'll have problems, that this is very the reason he keeps a hundred of cats and so forth. I suddenly realised I remembered who that person was - he often was in news reports back when I was a human. He was a head of government investigation commitee, his entire career based on loudly taking down companies for whatever faults he can find. And I realised turning humans into rats is a reeeeally big fault!
I cried out to him that Ive got information about possibly the biggest case in his whole career. He stopped, surprised at seeing rats capable of complicated thinking, and said, "Im listening".
Then scene changed, with parking around the building with laboratory filled with police cars, a huge lot of officers running the building. The were-rat guy in his human form walking around the mess with victorious look, and two rat muzzles peeking out of his handybag. (yeah, my nightmare had a sort-of happy ending )

Artwork:

My art is horrible sadly.((

[Scturn]

Name: The Belladonna scarecrow { or just Belladonna }

Personality: Intimidating, explosive, hot head, Conscientious, Self-centered, Unruly, Unfriendly, also it is mute

Nightmare: i don't really know what to do here so i am gonna write a short story. Running, running through this ever growing forest the rain beats down heavily. The mix of rain and strong winds make it sound like the dark dense forest around me is screaming.my bones aced if it weren't for the shear fear and adrenaline rushing through me i would have dropped right there, i looked ahead to the ever growing darkness glancing back to see if this thing was still chasing me... running when looking behind you not a good idea, my foot caught in a twisted root of a tree and then i came crashing to the ground my head bashed against a rock. I looked up i didn't feel any pain at first then it kicked in with in a few second, lifting my hand to my wounded head and pushed my self to my feet stumbling struggling to catch my surroundings. i stumbled forward bolting on when i head a blood chilling screech behind me. I raced on despite being soaked, cold and in pain. my leg left like they where going to collapse. I closed my eyes tightly as i ran my lungs burred every step i traveled added to my discomfort. as time passed a slowed down to a stop bent over gasping for air. Tired. Weak. I looked up the once dense forest was thinner the forest floor was lighter. i took a few more deep breaths and walked on ever step felt like a battle.I was desperate to live i kept walking on and on... Never go hunting at night only bad things happen...

Artwork: wip

[sewer connoisseur]

Name ➟ The Marlboro Scarecrow

Personality ➟ Polite, gentlemanly, cunning, manipulative, lacking conscience, intelligent, driven by want for power.
He has an interesting perception of humanity, often appearing kind and polite at first meeting, his true intentions not apparent until he uses you for his own gain. Every move he makes is calculated to his own advantage, every word specifically chosen to give the impression that he is trustworthy. His crow friend flies about the town, learning information from the locals and whispering secrets in his ear. When you first meet the Marlboro Scarecrow, his ember eyes pick out your weakness, ready to use it against you the second it benefits him.

Nightmare ➟ In 1945 an old, fat farmer by the name of Mr. Willis owned a barley farm alone. It was on the edge of a small town. Although it was a small farm that only dealt in edible produce, Mr. Willis had become lazy in his old age and barely left his house to gather in the wheat. Instead, he sat around on the sofa all day, drinking gin and watching the TVs fuzz with dark eyes.
With Mr. Willis never leaving his farm, unlike when he was young and still passionate about his work, gossip began to circulate in the nearby village. Malicious rumours were spread through whispers - "I heard he died and the wheat has grown so tall that it has hidden the house, stopping anyone from retrieving the body", "Well I heard that the scarecrow came alive and stepped off its post, killing him in vengeance of letting the farm degrade so badly!" These rumours became so well known that the 'murderous scarecrow' became like an urban legend throughout the town, children often making up stories of the adventure it had been on.
One night, Mr Willis was sat on his porch, deflated eyes watching the sunset. The orange light danced off of the top of the barley and the outline of his scarecrow. He grumbled to himself, knocking his flask against his teeth as he took messy swigs from the golden liquid between drags of his cigarette, thinking about how useless the damn thing had been. There had been more crows than ever around his crops since he had built it, only a couple years prior. Thinking back on this time, a time where he had been productive and passionate to work on a farm, depressed him. What had changed? He dropped his flask on the wood with a clunk, then threw his cigarette drunkingly towards the scarecrow as if he could blame it for his troubles. A sigh whistled out from beneath his moustache and he staggered off to bed, slamming the door on its hinges behind him.
What Mr. Willis didn't know was, as he slept, the cigarette had stayed alight and now this glowing ember had spread. All it took was a tiny gust of wind and the golden flame quickly grew into a burning hot forest. The unkempt wheat had provided ample kindling to grow the fire roaring and red. The farmer slept soundly, smelling of stale alcohol as his property was engulfed with the tentacles of heat. They wrapped around his home, his bed, his lungs and gently sent him to sleep. Outside, they licked at the scarecrows feet, lapping hotly at the wooden beam that had supported him until it broke, charred wood splintering where it stood.
The people of the village slept in their beds, unknowing of the black smoke they could have seen from their windows. However, their unwavering belief in the scarecrow manifested itself in his consciousness. He stood, taking a moment to adjust to the new sensation of being alive. He stretched out his long fingers, black claws tearing through the fingers of brown gloves, and looked around slowly, the hot fire withdrawing from him in fear. Big black crows flew up from the farm, barely escaping the dangerous fire, and landed on his arms and head, where it was safer. The golden embers reflected in their eyes as they did the scarecrows, so he decided to let them stay. Let him be their beacon of safety. They would serve a purpose later.
Huge burning flames eventually gave way to black smoke, eventually gave way to sunny blue skies that morning. When the villagers awoke they saw the burnt out husk of the farm in the distance, small black clouds dancing lazily from the skeleton of Mr. Willis' house. They ran down, all wanting to see what had happened.
When they arrived, the site that greeted them shocked them. The ground was burnt black and flat, the dirt course. The barley was completely gone, leaving only the unholy ground in its wake. The house had been burnt down to nothing but a frame, charred wood barely standing. the only things that remained of the farm was the scarecrow, who now stood without a post, eyes golden and glowing like specs of fire where he had before been lifeless, and a single, greying marlboro cigarette, a weak arms throw distance from the remains of the house.

[Keclo Jaxyn]

Bump - today's your last chance to enter!

[Keclo Jaxyn]

Name ➟ The Marlboro Scarecrow

Personality ➟ Polite, gentlemanly, cunning, manipulative, lacking conscience, intelligent, driven by want for power.
He has an interesting perception of humanity, often appearing kind and polite at first meeting, his true intentions not apparent until he uses you for his own gain. Every move he makes is calculated to his own advantage, every word specifically chosen to give the impression that he is trustworthy. His crow friend flies about the town, learning information from the locals and whispering secrets in his ear. When you first meet the Marlboro Scarecrow, his ember eyes pick out your weakness, ready to use it against you the second it benefits him.

Nightmare ➟ In 1945 an old, fat farmer by the name of Mr. Willis owned a barley farm alone. It was on the edge of a small town. Although it was a small farm that only dealt in edible produce, Mr. Willis had become lazy in his old age and barely left his house to gather in the wheat. Instead, he sat around on the sofa all day, drinking gin and watching the TVs fuzz with dark eyes.
With Mr. Willis never leaving his farm, unlike when he was young and still passionate about his work, gossip began to circulate in the nearby village. Malicious rumours were spread through whispers - "I heard he died and the wheat has grown so tall that it has hidden the house, stopping anyone from retrieving the body", "Well I heard that the scarecrow came alive and stepped off its post, killing him in vengeance of letting the farm degrade so badly!" These rumours became so well known that the 'murderous scarecrow' became like an urban legend throughout the town, children often making up stories of the adventure it had been on.
One night, Mr Willis was sat on his porch, deflated eyes watching the sunset. The orange light danced off of the top of the barley and the outline of his scarecrow. He grumbled to himself, knocking his flask against his teeth as he took messy swigs from the golden liquid between drags of his cigarette, thinking about how useless the damn thing had been. There had been more crows than ever around his crops since he had built it, only a couple years prior. Thinking back on this time, a time where he had been productive and passionate to work on a farm, depressed him. What had changed? He dropped his flask on the wood with a clunk, then threw his cigarette drunkingly towards the scarecrow as if he could blame it for his troubles. A sigh whistled out from beneath his moustache and he staggered off to bed, slamming the door on its hinges behind him.
What Mr. Willis didn't know was, as he slept, the cigarette had stayed alight and now this glowing ember had spread. All it took was a tiny gust of wind and the golden flame quickly grew into a burning hot forest. The unkempt wheat had provided ample kindling to grow the fire roaring and red. The farmer slept soundly, smelling of stale alcohol as his property was engulfed with the tentacles of heat. They wrapped around his home, his bed, his lungs and gently sent him to sleep. Outside, they licked at the scarecrows feet, lapping hotly at the wooden beam that had supported him until it broke, charred wood splintering where it stood.
The people of the village slept in their beds, unknowing of the black smoke they could have seen from their windows. However, their unwavering belief in the scarecrow manifested itself in his consciousness. He stood, taking a moment to adjust to the new sensation of being alive. He stretched out his long fingers, black claws tearing through the fingers of brown gloves, and looked around slowly, the hot fire withdrawing from him in fear. Big black crows flew up from the farm, barely escaping the dangerous fire, and landed on his arms and head, where it was safer. The golden embers reflected in their eyes as they did the scarecrows, so he decided to let them stay. Let him be their beacon of safety. They would serve a purpose later.
Huge burning flames eventually gave way to black smoke, eventually gave way to sunny blue skies that morning. When the villagers awoke they saw the burnt out husk of the farm in the distance, small black clouds dancing lazily from the skeleton of Mr. Willis' house. They ran down, all wanting to see what had happened.
When they arrived, the site that greeted them shocked them. The ground was burnt black and flat, the dirt course. The barley was completely gone, leaving only the unholy ground in its wake. The house had been burnt down to nothing but a frame, charred wood barely standing. the only things that remained of the farm was the scarecrow, who now stood without a post, eyes golden and glowing like specs of fire where he had before been lifeless, and a single, greying marlboro cigarette, a weak arms throw distance from the remains of the house.

Congratulations, w0lfman~! The Marlboro Scarecrow now belongs to you. Amazing job on the artwork and nightmare! I want to thank all of you for your effort and hope to see more of your creativity and passion in the future~! :3

[sewer connoisseur]

aaaa ty!! :)))