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CBPR Presents - Soba Kayavo ~ The Devil Dog
CBP® Revisioned Presents:
Soba Kayavo ~ The Devil Dog
In the midst of a clearing far in the desert of what has become known to those aware of its presence, the demon realm. A young canine-anthropoid man dressed in a tan lapel jacket, slacks, and black billed Fidel hat all matching his sandy-blonde hair enters the large doorway of a broken and time-beaten cathedral under the noon sun. His ocean blue eyes scan around suspiciously at the recently repaired architecture, miniscule fragments that hadn’t been altered lie scattered about. “Ché cal parxhenya de Neuteka, remomécal lem bérem’mar!” he shouts in a strange language before thrusting a fist into the marble floor.
The building immediately illuminates a bright white as in defense as hundreds of linear symbols form hollow indentions in the ground around the cathedral and start to illuminate, themselves. The young man stands as a swift w
The Seven - Preview ProloguePrologue: Sixth Man Down
A young man seated upon his own mattress at the corner of his room; dimly lit by a flickering candle behind him. A disturbing silhouette casts a shadow against the opposing wall, one which depicts him holding a note in one hand and pistol in the other, the barrel of which pressed firmly against his head. “Forgive me”, he utters through his shuttering and pulls; releasing his ties to the world with the drop of a tear and explosive noise. He lumps over on his bed, blood pooling in the white sheets and the light ting of a spent cartridge as it hits the floor. A small candle illuminates behind him depicting the silhouette of a human figure, thrashing and screaming as if being burned alive.
Elsewhere, a blonde haired man of similar age dressed in a trench coat scales a flight of stairs, fatigued and frustrated. He peers up at a small plaque in front of him, the lightly illuminated letters of the panel reading ‘2’; his fa
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More