The protector of the forest.

The Legend of Kabuto

the protector of the forest



Blood pulled down a canvas to look like a lonely figure. little red haired girl
The Staff of Screaming A red staff leaning up against a corner of a bathtub wall, black garbage bags painted to the wall to protect them. Bizarre, blood covered canvases are behind the staff.
A bizarre cacophony of canvases, bottles, pieces of cloth. One canvas appears as though streaked with blood. Another, a bizarre gauge made of blood, showing at nearly full. Another shows droplets. It's magic
little red haired girl The little red haired girl from the first photo, but the canvas is perched barely balanced on a ledge.
A close up of the upper canvas, with smeared touch lines over it, while the head of the staff rests against it. Eyes
Friends The middle canvas, showing multiple smear lines of blood down the canvas. The staff in front of the canvas loos a bit like a blood covered bone.
Droplets of blood, in a very vivid contrast of red against white. This is the lower canvas. Droplets
The Funnel The gauge made of blood, which I dunno, just looks disturbing.
A heretofore unforseen canvas, showing a rivulet of blood along the one corner edge of the canvas, which is actually a sheet of waterproof paper. It appears as though someone used the sheet of paper like a razor blade. the Razor's Edge
Laughter Some of the eyes of the bloody staff almost appearing as though to laugh.
The bloody staff, with droplets at the bottom. Blood
What happened here? The staff and the canvases looking down on the viewer accusingly.
A photo of the staff of screaming, here labelled the blood staff, against the door of the apartment. The blood staff
I need more blood. A closeup of a figure in the staff, appearing as though a head and body staring at you.
It does need more blood. A photo of Kabuto holding the staff, with a wrapping overtop of the blood where she is holding it. It needs more blood.
Three. Three canvases lay in a bathtub, with black garbage bags laid out beneath to protect the bottom.
Three bloody canvases. Lots.
Horse. The furthest to the right, with droplets that resemble a horse facing to the right.
The middle canvas, just showing random droplets. They don't seem to resemble much to the author. Life.
A face. A droplet pattern that somewhat resembles a general lump, that could be seen as a silhouette of a head. It's... pretty gruesome.
Three more canvases with droplets of blood, just kinda run back and forth over the pages, as though letting it drip from the staff and just kinda moving it back and forth. Her feet are seen at the base of the tub. Three more signatures.
More. A pail is sitting by the door, and a handful of pages of those canvases are sitting inside of there.
Three more canvases. They are nondescript droplet patterns, but for the sake of effect let's just hold it at three more canvases. Three more signatures.
Left There are twelve canvases here, all laid out in two rows. Most of them have three streaks of blood down them, while one is a snarled looking mess of red.
A closeup of the snarled one. It is labeled saw. It appears as though a blood covered saw blade was roughly cleaned with this piece of paper. Saw.
A pain, and not worth the cleanup.
Betsy here did a wonderful job. 		Three more canvases, that somehow look more sinister. The middle one has this really long streak of red down the side, and the bottom one too, and the top one is just kinda these three lone droplets. Also everything is covered in black garbage bags now. The girl is wearing high heels by the way, she has been the entire time, just nonchalantly.
A closeup of the saw blade, where the tips are a bit red. It was cleaned with that one piece of paper though. If you don't think about that, it could be a rather confusing shot given the... blood. Jagged and rusty.
The count. Twenty canvases all in a row. Oh god this isn't even showing them all, there must be at least ten, fifteen more than this.
Three more signatures. More droplets. More blood. Three more signatures.
A white covid mask, covered in blood.
Covid. A small thumbprint in the center of a page. I think she is implying that she is just... getting three every time she goes out. And given that mask, holy F what does she look like?
Three more canvases, with a trail of blood pouring across them. Three more signatures.
What say you, was it you?

No, couldn't have been you, you're clean as a whistle! 		Her white staff, it is clean as a whistle.
Another trail of blood. Three more signatures.
What about you good sir, how about you? Looking accusingly at the green staff, asking if it was they.
The staff turns her head away, saying no. You neither...
Three more signatures. Three more canvases with blood.
The white staff, about to rap on the door. Three more knocks.
Three more signatures. Three bloody pools on three canvases in the tub.
A trail of bloody canvases. Follow
signed Kabutroid Smiley face

K.T. 		Her signature, a small K . T . written in some obscure corner somewhere, so as not to detract from the story.
The author, Kabutroid, or Kabuto right now. She has cat ears on, a bell is around her neck, she has red indigenous earrings on, and her face has been painted with blood, running from the corners of her mouth down her throat, her eyes have been painted red, and she has three streaks going down across her face. She seems undisturbed. Kabuto
it began with a scream Bizarre, agonized screaming. Imagine the screams of thousands of people, a high pitched screeching overtop, and animals hissing. It emerges from this blood covered figure.
Her work boots on, carrying the white and the green staff with her, facing to go out.
She got rid of the bad people A lone figure huddled in a messy room. Kabuto is seen in the reflection of the mirror on the wall, in a sitting position, facing towards an open door. In the foreground of the mirror are things like towels, a microphone, a basket, more towels, possibly a shoe. To the left is a box of waterproof copy paper, with 'The Legend of Kabuto' written on the front.
. . .
. . .
Just three dots, made with paper pages.
Rows

Two rows of papers, each with a distinct pooling of blood in the middle, totalling 18.
Hordes

Oh my god. What happened here? Strewn about paper, and blood everywhere. It's hard to describe. No but seriously the room is covered in papers strewn about overtop of black garbage bags, and blood is sprayed across it. It's.... a horrorshow.
Boots by the door.

She found the bad people.
A cloudy field


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