aguu: (school ribbon brunette)
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious facebook page of forgotten lore

I came upon a group reminiscing on faerie tales, ever more. Well in that dark hour did Lunaria espy a new horror beginning. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

It was the ghost of Razul rapping at my chamber door. With his dark and dusty bones would haunt my nights for the ages. Until the day of children coming when that dusty Razul would haunt my nightmares, "Nevermore."



In the proper sense, Razul was once the prim Dr. Crooked, who ran the Moonbow Asylum deep in the trenches of the Great and Awful Forest. Dr. Crooked was the man responsible for running the Asylum (by the order of the Rotten King, naturally) and had a fascinatingly wide smile and a fondness for lemon-flavored sweets. All that changed when Lunaria phased into the new moon, and was reborn into a saner version of herself, one that the Sun might have favored. 

When the Grimm world's moon changed her phase, all under her contract was affected, no matter how small. Dr. Crooked thought that the new moon phase would help ease the Asylum patients' usual screams and ramblings and so invited Lunaria to visit. Sadly, things did not go as planned and Lunaria was murdered within the Asylum, by the very creatures under her domain and contract. A new Luna, crazier than the last took to the skies and punished Dr. Crooked for turning a blind eye--for he was preoccupied when Lunaria was screaming for help.

A spell was put on Dr. Crooked for this ghastly deed; and he became Razul: a monster dedicated to power and bloodlust, made only to serve one more powerful than he. As the Asylum began to fail and the inmates broke out and wreaked havoc over the Grimm Lands, a handful of children during the Golden Age were able to imprison Razul inside a brass lamp, hiding it within the cove of a Sea Witch deep in Atlantica. 

Inside Razul bides his time, waiting for the perfect child to bless with his curse: to give a child of great Imagination power, but at what price?


The good Dr. Crooked (before things went Horribly Wrong)





aguu: (old as the moon)

Ideas have knocked themselves into my head. I like them, very much. They should come more often.

·         Grimm is a world born from a little girl’s wish to be with her friend, the Devil, forever. He gave her a blank canvas and called it the World (for since when does the Devil ever love anything, much less a tiny scrap of a human with imagination thick enough to cover hell with frozen ice cream, not just ice) and encouraged her to start drawing. When she was finished, the Devil smiled and promptly made her forget that she did in fact draw the plans of the entire world into being and gave her plans to God.


and this is a skeleton for "plot" )

aguu: (butterfly)
While travelling in the Great and Awful forest, unwary visitors to Grimm may find the glass and crystal cairn of a 10 year-old girl. As you peer in you see her--golden curls entangled with pink fairy floss and a bittersweet grin. The clothes she wears are covered with bits of gum and other sugary confections - and the edges of her dress are singed jet black. Near her coffin there is a cracked bowl with remnants of porridge, being eaten up by ants. 

Standing in front of the casket, looking in a way that could only be described as 'cheerfully somber' is another little girl wearing a jet-black bonnet. Her eyes glitter like half-dead ladybugs, creeping upon a pale winter face. "She was just right..." 

When asked for her name, a curtsy is offered and the bonnet shivers ever-so-slightly. "Muffet." In her dainty gloved hands she holds a nut-brown picnic basket. There is a crunching sound in the undergrowth of the forest and Muffet's red eyes grow fearful. She thrusts the picnic basket at you and as she runs off towards the east, you notice that spiders keep falling from her bonnet. As you watch her run away, an old rhyme skitters around your breakfast-deprived brain.

Little Miss Muffet...sat on a tuffet...eating her curds and whey.


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Queen of Eternity

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