redweasel 
Fuzzbutt
oh no, her most horrifying transformation yet!
Uploaded by GrimWeird 
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Description
Relinquish from static.
In other words: Make my NecroMomIcon fly.
Fragments from Grim’s diary:
Who were we? But two strangers. Trust uppon whith the secrets of a family. Secrets that secrets that they were now in no position but to trust us not to missuse och missmanage.
It was a trust as forced uppon them as their secrets were uppon us.
What kind of relationship can be built uppon such shaky grounds?
Mivera understood this inbalance of power between us. And I do not believe her acceptance of this situation was a token of good faith as much as a brutal acknolegement of the facts. A submitting to the crule reality. Like how she had been forced to submit to her reality for all her life.
My glyph too, understood it, and she took to it. Like a remnant of that brutal sence of duty that had once seen her pun in a magic lamp for strange enons.
However. Her mother was not about to sublit so easely to us.
What Mivera knew however. That her mother did not. Was that Glyph had a knack for memorizing spells. Another trait trained into her since birth by her people of anchient times.
What horror must it be. To be bound as an inanimate object. Only to loose the one control you have of your life, being the secrets you keep.
This horror. The necroMomIcon must have felt. For in that moment. It was in Glyphs mercy.
However. This curse of inanimasy was one that glyph hoped to break. To prove that her daughters trust was not missplaced. Though she might not be able to break her mothers condition. There was something that could be done about her inanimasy
And just as I can not hope to describe the horror of the NecroMomoCons existence. I also can not express what relief – what overbearing pressute, that must have lifted of her ink-ribboned mind, the moment that Glypg released her from the chains of inanimasy.
_ “I cast no spell” My Glyph would remark “What i did to mother is not a spell. A spell would be like levitation. A piece of magic that the magician leaves inside the object in order to defy gravity. Its a prayer. We simply pray for reality not to function the way it does any more. To cut her off from the reality that binds any book. Ive tied that piece of un-reality to her. And as long as she wish to not be bound, she won’t.”_
And how strong must not the will to be released from the reality of inanimasy be for one afflicted by it?
In other words: Make my NecroMomIcon fly.
Fragments from Grim’s diary:
Who were we? But two strangers. Trust uppon whith the secrets of a family. Secrets that secrets that they were now in no position but to trust us not to missuse och missmanage.
It was a trust as forced uppon them as their secrets were uppon us.
What kind of relationship can be built uppon such shaky grounds?
Mivera understood this inbalance of power between us. And I do not believe her acceptance of this situation was a token of good faith as much as a brutal acknolegement of the facts. A submitting to the crule reality. Like how she had been forced to submit to her reality for all her life.
My glyph too, understood it, and she took to it. Like a remnant of that brutal sence of duty that had once seen her pun in a magic lamp for strange enons.
However. Her mother was not about to sublit so easely to us.
What Mivera knew however. That her mother did not. Was that Glyph had a knack for memorizing spells. Another trait trained into her since birth by her people of anchient times.
What horror must it be. To be bound as an inanimate object. Only to loose the one control you have of your life, being the secrets you keep.
This horror. The necroMomIcon must have felt. For in that moment. It was in Glyphs mercy.
However. This curse of inanimasy was one that glyph hoped to break. To prove that her daughters trust was not missplaced. Though she might not be able to break her mothers condition. There was something that could be done about her inanimasy
And just as I can not hope to describe the horror of the NecroMomoCons existence. I also can not express what relief – what overbearing pressute, that must have lifted of her ink-ribboned mind, the moment that Glypg released her from the chains of inanimasy.
_ “I cast no spell” My Glyph would remark “What i did to mother is not a spell. A spell would be like levitation. A piece of magic that the magician leaves inside the object in order to defy gravity. Its a prayer. We simply pray for reality not to function the way it does any more. To cut her off from the reality that binds any book. Ive tied that piece of un-reality to her. And as long as she wish to not be bound, she won’t.”_
And how strong must not the will to be released from the reality of inanimasy be for one afflicted by it?
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