A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Crusader has stumbled his way through the woods, found this house by pure fortune, or in his case, pure misfortune. Taking off his helmet and sword off his back, feeling a kind of familiarity from the house, resting all his weapons outside. He moves his sweat drenched hair from his face, walking inside the home. (If you want to know what his guilt is, it's his son and wife, who he abandoned when he became a Crusader to stave off starvation.)
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
Tycho, enjoying the cold fresh air, invigorating his mind, curiously inspects the house that has formed, especially the strange grass.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Traitor stumbles across this house, which didn't seem to be there the last time she passed through this spot. Assuming there isn't anyone inside, she skulks over and enters the home.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Crusader has stumbled his way through the woods, found this house by pure fortune, or in his case, pure misfortune. Taking off his helmet and sword off his back, feeling a kind of familiarity from the house, resting all his weapons outside. He moves his sweat drenched hair from his face, walking inside the home. (If you want to know what his guilt is, it's his son and wife, who he abandoned when he became a Crusader to stave off starvation.)
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
He sits down on the couch, looking to the middle distance, the armor heavy on his shoulders as he begins to take if off piece by piece. He gets up after all the armor is gone, and walks to the bathroom, turning it on to take a shower.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
Tycho, enjoying the cold fresh air, invigorating his mind, curiously inspects the house that has formed, especially the strange grass.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
Tycho, terrified of rats, avoids the basement completely and goes into the kitchen/living room.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
Tycho, enjoying the cold fresh air, invigorating his mind, curiously inspects the house that has formed, especially the strange grass.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Traitor stumbles across this house, which didn't seem to be there the last time she passed through this spot. Assuming there isn't anyone inside, she skulks over and enters the home.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Crusader has stumbled his way through the woods, found this house by pure fortune, or in his case, pure misfortune. Taking off his helmet and sword off his back, feeling a kind of familiarity from the house, resting all his weapons outside. He moves his sweat drenched hair from his face, walking inside the home. (If you want to know what his guilt is, it's his son and wife, who he abandoned when he became a Crusader to stave off starvation.)
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
He sits down on the couch, looking to the middle distance, the armor heavy on his shoulders as he begins to take if off piece by piece. He gets up after all the armor is gone, and walks to the bathroom, turning it on to take a shower.
He finds the water is warm. Slowly but surely, as he steps into it, he begins to hear voices as he shuts the curtain. A little boy and woman.. that sound like his family.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
Tycho, enjoying the cold fresh air, invigorating his mind, curiously inspects the house that has formed, especially the strange grass.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
Tycho, terrified of rats, avoids the basement completely and goes into the kitchen/living room.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Traitor stumbles across this house, which didn't seem to be there the last time she passed through this spot. Assuming there isn't anyone inside, she skulks over and enters the home.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
Traitor, slightly hunched over to avoid bonking her head on the ceiling, ambles over down the staircase, curious about what lurks in the dark.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Crusader has stumbled his way through the woods, found this house by pure fortune, or in his case, pure misfortune. Taking off his helmet and sword off his back, feeling a kind of familiarity from the house, resting all his weapons outside. He moves his sweat drenched hair from his face, walking inside the home. (If you want to know what his guilt is, it's his son and wife, who he abandoned when he became a Crusader to stave off starvation.)
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
He sits down on the couch, looking to the middle distance, the armor heavy on his shoulders as he begins to take if off piece by piece. He gets up after all the armor is gone, and walks to the bathroom, turning it on to take a shower.
He finds the water is warm. Slowly but surely, as he steps into it, he begins to hear voices as he shuts the curtain. A little boy and woman.. that sound like his family.
Does Tycho notice the Crusader?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
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
A house has seemed to form in the woods. It is in the style of an old 1990's Ranch home complete with white siding, white plastic shutter, and a slate roof. The lawn is mowed nicely and the driveway... Well the driveway has seen better days. It is cracked, grass growing from those cracks like tendrils of green. Aside from that, the rest of the house is cared for well, not a spot of dirt.
The Traitor stumbles across this house, which didn't seem to be there the last time she passed through this spot. Assuming there isn't anyone inside, she skulks over and enters the home.
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
Traitor, slightly hunched over to avoid bonking her head on the ceiling, ambles over down the staircase, curious about what lurks in the dark.
The basement is a stark contrast from the room upstairs. Its wall are made of grime covered cement, turned black but ash. The wood, they find, is hard to get down because it feels rotted. A hole is in the very corner, but the light from the single bulb doesn't reach that far to uncover how deep it is.
A teenager boy, about 18 or 19, sits on the floor. He is a matching pair of insane asylum styled pajamas, the blank whitish-blue coloration. He has scarred skin, lanky limbs, and fluffy brown hair.
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
*Okay, so I'm thinking of taking inspiration from Big D of Hunter the Parenting fame for Cursebutcher.*
*An individual who is extremely paranoid and anxious, but masks it so well and is so powerful (compared to the average shrimpy human) that you just assume he's doing well.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
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Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
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
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
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
The Traitor stumbles across this house, which didn't seem to be there the last time she passed through this spot. Assuming there isn't anyone inside, she skulks over and enters the home.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He sits down on the couch, looking to the middle distance, the armor heavy on his shoulders as he begins to take if off piece by piece. He gets up after all the armor is gone, and walks to the bathroom, turning it on to take a shower.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Tycho, terrified of rats, avoids the basement completely and goes into the kitchen/living room.
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
LOYAL FOLLOWER OF JEFF! PRAISE JEFF!!!
The Loom(my first thread)
*yoooo, we both have a tycho? :0*
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement
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
Love cold air, like Tycho, so I chose him.
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
LOYAL FOLLOWER OF JEFF! PRAISE JEFF!!!
The Loom(my first thread)
He finds the water is warm. Slowly but surely, as he steps into it, he begins to hear voices as he shuts the curtain. A little boy and woman.. that sound like his family.
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
Inside of the house, it looks pretty normal. The furniture looks clean. There is a bedroom down the hall alongside a bathroom, the kitchen and living room are one, and there is an staircase the descends down to a basement.
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
*.....wat?*
Traitor, slightly hunched over to avoid bonking her head on the ceiling, ambles over down the staircase, curious about what lurks in the dark.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Does Tycho notice the Crusader?
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
LOYAL FOLLOWER OF JEFF! PRAISE JEFF!!!
The Loom(my first thread)
Thought we could use them??? Nm, sry, my bad.
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
LOYAL FOLLOWER OF JEFF! PRAISE JEFF!!!
The Loom(my first thread)
(you want to rp Alaric?)
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
The basement is a stark contrast from the room upstairs. Its wall are made of grime covered cement, turned black but ash. The wood, they find, is hard to get down because it feels rotted. A hole is in the very corner, but the light from the single bulb doesn't reach that far to uncover how deep it is.
A teenager boy, about 18 or 19, sits on the floor. He is a matching pair of insane asylum styled pajamas, the blank whitish-blue coloration. He has scarred skin, lanky limbs, and fluffy brown hair.
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
Sure! (Who's Alaric???) (jk)
A young storyteller who wanders the lands of lore, weaving a tale at every request. Has a lot of Cramorants. Major twenty one pilots fan. Certified Joker. Writer of Very Fishy Diaries and huge Lemony Snicket fan. He/him. A Warrior of Words, Vindicator of Vocabulary, Paladin of Poetry, and a Lancer of Language.
LOYAL FOLLOWER OF JEFF! PRAISE JEFF!!!
The Loom(my first thread)
*i mean i did word it weirdly but no, what i meant was that these are the characters i have active rn*
*Sure, my active folks are above*
*Okay, so I'm thinking of taking inspiration from Big D of Hunter the Parenting fame for Cursebutcher.*
*An individual who is extremely paranoid and anxious, but masks it so well and is so powerful (compared to the average shrimpy human) that you just assume he's doing well.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels