Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
*Sure! You got anyone you wanna RP with, or are you not feeling like decisions right now? I'm good either way, but I don't have any ideas immediately.*
*I would make a choice if you want me to, otherwise I don’t really have any opinion on who I want to play, maybe Prospero and the Highwayman would be fun considering his crimes, but idk.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
She laughs, his voice warm and echoing through every living thing around like the beginning of a song. "You flatter me.. Tell me, how was your sleep?"
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
*Sure! You got anyone you wanna RP with, or are you not feeling like decisions right now? I'm good either way, but I don't have any ideas immediately.*
*I would make a choice if you want me to, otherwise I don’t really have any opinion on who I want to play, maybe Prospero and the Highwayman would be fun considering his crimes, but idk.*
*I really want to play more Felix to test out his rework. Highwayman is a good choice, though.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
She laughs, his voice warm and echoing through every living thing around like the beginning of a song. "You flatter me.. Tell me, how was your sleep?"
They stretch, an unnecessary action, more instinctive than anything else, something from their life before, as they say “It was well, not often do I get to rest, as a spirit trapped in a suit of armor for the rest of eternity.”
*Probably has something to do with my own backstory, but it's okay to have multiple characters with the same trauma so long as they have different coping mechanisms.*
*Have fun!*
*Coping mechanisms are important indeed, I probably show some patterns of my own when it comes to characters, and they’re probably more obvious than yours. Anyway want to rp?*
*Sure! You got anyone you wanna RP with, or are you not feeling like decisions right now? I'm good either way, but I don't have any ideas immediately.*
*I would make a choice if you want me to, otherwise I don’t really have any opinion on who I want to play, maybe Prospero and the Highwayman would be fun considering his crimes, but idk.*
*I really want to play more Felix to test out his rework. Highwayman is a good choice, though.*
*Who do you want to deal with Felix then? You know I got options, you’ve got categories you can pick from my friend.*
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
She laughs, his voice warm and echoing through every living thing around like the beginning of a song. "You flatter me.. Tell me, how was your sleep?"
They stretch, an unnecessary action, more instinctive than anything else, something from their life before, as they say “It was well, not often do I get to rest, as a spirit trapped in a suit of armor for the rest of eternity.”
"Life's little pleasures, some take them for granted every day." She says and laughs lightly.
Amongst the trees, walking across the grass with the white lily of the valley grows from where she steps. A beautiful woman walks through the forest, her long white hair falling down her shoulder and down to the ground like a cascading waterfall. Long deer antlers made of black bone sprout from the crown of her skull, dropped in black thorns and white roses. She wears a similar crown of black thorns with little white roses growing from it. She wears an ethereal white dress with silver jewelry spilling from her as if she was bathed in it. White doves coo quietly, sitting on her shoulders like trained pets.
Leaning down against one of the trees they can see an empty suit of armor, many colored runes etched into the steel of the finely crafted metal armor. Vines have wrapped into the armor and patches of moss have grown into it as well, the chest plate seems broken and yet held together by something magical. Some faint sound seemingly is coming from within, like slight snoring, but that couldn’t be right, armor doesn’t snore.
She tilts her head, her body magically disappearing and reshifting back over to the front of the armor. She crouches down, speaking in olden celestial tongue fixed with Gaelic to the doves. They flutter down, hopping on the armors shoulders.
The armor only shutters for a moment, nothing seemingly connecting the pieces of armor together, and yet they do not go too far from each other. The snoring does stop as a light blue begins to swirl within the chest plate as two eyes appear beneath the helm’s visor.
She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
She laughs, his voice warm and echoing through every living thing around like the beginning of a song. "You flatter me.. Tell me, how was your sleep?"
They stretch, an unnecessary action, more instinctive than anything else, something from their life before, as they say “It was well, not often do I get to rest, as a spirit trapped in a suit of armor for the rest of eternity.”
"Life's little pleasures, some take them for granted every day." She says and laughs lightly.
He chuckles, knowing that to be true “It isn’t often I see you in this realm, have you come because you need to be here or you want to be?”
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She taps the forehead of the armor, smiling "Sleepyhead.. It is time to wake up. The world calls for you. The birds sing for you to open your eyes."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*ACTUALLY IT IS.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Dang, Morgana is.*
*I would make a choice if you want me to, otherwise I don’t really have any opinion on who I want to play, maybe Prospero and the Highwayman would be fun considering his crimes, but idk.*
The eyes focus, ethereal and swirling blue as an old man’s tired voice comes out “M- Morgana? Goddess of Life is that you? It’s been centuries.” He stands up, the vines and ethereal soul gathering his limbs together.
She smiles, crouching on her cloven hooves, she reaches out, touching their chin "Indeed little one. How beautiful it is to see you."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
(hello again. how is everyone)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
His chin moves with their touch, his soul keeping him connected but still very moveable “As it is you Morgana, your divine presence is flattering to witness.” He says, kneeling down before coming together.
*Doing beautifully. You?*
She laughs, his voice warm and echoing through every living thing around like the beginning of a song. "You flatter me.. Tell me, how was your sleep?"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*I really want to play more Felix to test out his rework. Highwayman is a good choice, though.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Hungry. You?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
They stretch, an unnecessary action, more instinctive than anything else, something from their life before, as they say “It was well, not often do I get to rest, as a spirit trapped in a suit of armor for the rest of eternity.”
*Who do you want to deal with Felix then? You know I got options, you’ve got categories you can pick from my friend.*
*i am returned from the dark depths that mortal men call Maryland*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Yo wassup Jobah, good to see ya.*
"Life's little pleasures, some take them for granted every day." She says and laughs lightly.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Watch your tongue, I used to live there.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Good to see you too*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He chuckles, knowing that to be true “It isn’t often I see you in this realm, have you come because you need to be here or you want to be?”