#pendog creative

So I may or maynot being doing charcters based off Millie and Winnie for my ocs....butt well I pulled up their pages for refrences and uhhh...

Winnie is leaving....

And I was all, "what the"...and uhh

Millie is leaving too....

I mean I get it hecate and her duaghters are creepy as f. And like they are infesting everywhere.

I mean I am sure they can find a new home somewhere no porblem I mean they are cute as ever and fit in well with fantasy settings...

but hey at least it's just th-No

No Lancer!!!!

LANCER NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oH MY GOD GUYS I AM INCOSOLABLE...WHERE THE HECK IS HE GONNA GO?!?!DISNEY LAND?!?! THEY WON'T HIRE HIM! HE BELIEVES IN GAY RIGHTS!!

HE CAN'T GO TO NEWS PAPER STRIPS!! NO ONE READS THOSE ANYMORE!!!!

The Beetrice puppet was made by the amazing JamJuice over on instagram! You might know them for their AMAZING welcome home fan puppets

Jamjuice also ventured (safely) into an abandoned factory to take photos of our dear Beetrice and I was so startled upon being told this that all I could say was “ok have fun Boss!”

Here’s the lyrics I wrote for “Don’t you panic don’t you fret” composed and sung by @lonesome-cowpoke along with a little intro that didn’t make it into the update (context for outsiders: this is a in universe college theatre production)

When I was a sparkle in my creators eye a zinester with no ambition, nothing more than an expressive sigh of a girl with twisted intuition

I watched and learned and slashed my way, through the shapes and thoughts of better days, a simple task of a playful ruse, to bring odd comfort to those who knew

I never was a killer, maybe just a choir? Singing of the dreadful pain that stole her friends and drew my ire 

Then they tore and they pried, intent away from the zinesters cries, kicked her to the curb! interpreted me this way! I manifest their fears and recite my lines in this dribbling blood drenched butchers play! 

A drawing and now a slasher, a blue pillar that sways along, with love and malice and fright in hand with ever sharpened blade. My hands will strangle, they will choke, sit down, cutie try not to croak. 

Chorus:

Don’t you panic 

Don’t you fret 

The slashers not quite ready yet 

The movies still in commission

And your soul is in remission

Cutting out your condition 

With the measurements of truth 

Bring your will together 

And get the affairs required~

To face the art smeared by the feckless words of childish jealous liars 

Turquoise flesh with crescent eyes, dribbling mouth of severed ties, tangled hair of matted truth, blue gloved fingers that set you loose. Hatful of clever watchful lies, arms that arc like restless scythes. Sharpened Heels weep and mourn, guts and giblets she will pour. 

Perfect slasher inhabited, by fallouts bloody smeary strokes, desperate clutches grip with glee the truth that runs to and fro, through the night and through the streets, fearful of the dreadful beast, blue soaked skin and bleary eyes, your fate trapped in pencil lines.