*Ah yes, war crimes simulator. Otherwise know as Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2.*
(I would have said Stellaris personally)
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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
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
“Spring? The best season, my favorite.” He says with another chuckle, “Sam the spring god, interesting you find me comforting.”
The voices stop, patiently waiting for himself to be revived, hoping it works.
He takes the umbrella, opening it and holding it “Thank you, my love. It’ll take a while for me to truly burn.”
"Not really. I'm a being of life. seedlings, usually, like to be heated up." they explain, laying back down.
X takes a swig of something, and dips the knife in it.
"Not taking the chance." he says, frowning. He lets the horses free, directing them back to the pen. The wagon disappears, like his cart does.
“Fair enough I suppose, though there are better ones for that, other dragons, hotter ones, likely stronger ones.” He says, putting his hands behind his head.
Damian seems to be silently judging from beyond the grave, before remembering he’s also an alcoholic. (Now is the time to try and bring him back)
He gives them a kiss in the forehead, smiling at them “And that’s another thing I love about you.”
"But you are just right to me." they stretch out a bit, sighing.
He cuts into damian's chest, about an inch, making an X.
he smiles stupidly, walking alongside them *i-inside?....*
“I suppose that is true, and I would happily give you the chance at warmth any time.”
He gasps, his ghost appearing next to them, curious.
He heads inside the Inn, holding their hand with a soft smile.
*He's a very big man with curly hair wearing fisherman's waders (come up to his waist and have suspenders) with iron soles (His shoes are mechanically enhanced to give him better jumps), a red-and-white striped slicked-down tailcoat with a grey interior (he turned it inside out and painted it with special "refrigerator paint" that keeps his candy stores from melting), and an armored wide-brimed top hat (he doesn't want to keep buying silk ones) that shadows his face and leaves his big, shining eyes. He also wears a plain white shirt, possibly with a pin shaped like a pair of crossed corndogs.*
*Ah yes, war crimes simulator. Otherwise know as Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2.*
(I would have said Stellaris personally)
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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
“Spring? The best season, my favorite.” He says with another chuckle, “Sam the spring god, interesting you find me comforting.”
The voices stop, patiently waiting for himself to be revived, hoping it works.
He takes the umbrella, opening it and holding it “Thank you, my love. It’ll take a while for me to truly burn.”
"Not really. I'm a being of life. seedlings, usually, like to be heated up." they explain, laying back down.
X takes a swig of something, and dips the knife in it.
"Not taking the chance." he says, frowning. He lets the horses free, directing them back to the pen. The wagon disappears, like his cart does.
“Fair enough I suppose, though there are better ones for that, other dragons, hotter ones, likely stronger ones.” He says, putting his hands behind his head.
Damian seems to be silently judging from beyond the grave, before remembering he’s also an alcoholic. (Now is the time to try and bring him back)
He gives them a kiss in the forehead, smiling at them “And that’s another thing I love about you.”
"But you are just right to me." they stretch out a bit, sighing.
He cuts into damian's chest, about an inch, making an X.
he smiles stupidly, walking alongside them *i-inside?....*
“I suppose that is true, and I would happily give you the chance at warmth any time.”
He gasps, his ghost appearing next to them, curious.
He heads inside the Inn, holding their hand with a soft smile.
"And I'll happily repair any grass or trees you torch while training."
"How much do you think she loves me?..." he asks, holding the knife and staring at it.
"Are you hungry, love?"
“Sounds like we are at an agreement,” He says with a chuckle “A wonderful beginning to any relationship.”
He walks over to them, looking to them “She… loves… enough…” He puts his hands in their shoulders “Love… is… deep…”
“Are you offering?” He says, sitting down in a room at the Inn.
He cackles, joining in the mock toast “I think I am going to rest, you may sleep on my chest if you like.” (I could see these two accidentally dating)
He looks at them, his eyes growing wide as he tries to stop them, his ethereal hands going through them, though he begins to flicker more and more, life slowly returning to his body through the ritual.
He softly moves his hands to their neck, pushing their head out of the way before slipping the fangs into them, draining slowly.
*He's a very big man with curly hair wearing fisherman's waders (come up to his waist and have suspenders) with iron soles (His shoes are mechanically enhanced to give him better jumps), a red-and-white striped slicked-down tailcoat with a grey interior (he turned it inside out and painted it with special "refrigerator paint" that keeps his candy stores from melting), and an armored wide-brimed top hat (he doesn't want to keep buying silk ones) that shadows his face and leaves his big, shining eyes. He also wears a plain white shirt, possibly with a pin shaped like a pair of crossed corndogs.*
*I may make him a river otter man. May not.*
*is this the romancing victim?*
*Excuse me, Salem, did you say victim? Also, sounds like a fun character I would also enjoy attempting to romance, but Salem called dibs first.*
*He's a very big man with curly hair wearing fisherman's waders (come up to his waist and have suspenders) with iron soles (His shoes are mechanically enhanced to give him better jumps), a red-and-white striped slicked-down tailcoat with a grey interior (he turned it inside out and painted it with special "refrigerator paint" that keeps his candy stores from melting), and an armored wide-brimed top hat (he doesn't want to keep buying silk ones) that shadows his face and leaves his big, shining eyes. He also wears a plain white shirt, possibly with a pin shaped like a pair of crossed corndogs.*
He cackles, joining in the mock toast “I think I am going to rest, you may sleep on my chest if you like.” (I could see these two accidentally dating)
He looks at them, his eyes growing wide as he tries to stop them, his ethereal hands going through them, though he begins to flicker more and more, life slowly returning to his body through the ritual.
He softly moves his hands to their neck, pushing their head out of the way before slipping the fangs into them, draining slowly.
*tis the plan.* "I shall do the same, and prey to Father I don't fall of." they snicker, closing their eyes.
"Whatever the cause..." he says weakly, falling over onto the metal table, making sure to bleed in damian's wound.
He closes his eyes, groaning softly.
He falls asleep with time, eyes closed, warmth remaining comforting.
Light begins to return to Damian’s eyes, flickering back as the death leaves his body ever slowly, but continues to try and stop them “S-… STOP!”
After a moment he takes his fangs out of them, holding them tightly as he licks the fangs clean, “Delicious.”
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(I would have said Stellaris personally)
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
(anyone want to rp?)
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
*I'm fine my love, how are 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
“I suppose that is true, and I would happily give you the chance at warmth any time.”
He gasps, his ghost appearing next to them, curious.
He heads inside the Inn, holding their hand with a soft smile.
*I am doing as well as I can be, though I must leave soon. Will you be on tomorrow?*
She stays out of her way, picking up the cat so as to not disturb.
Yod turns to him. "Good to see you again."
"Mm?"
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Alright, so here's my plan for his design:*
*He's a very big man with curly hair wearing fisherman's waders (come up to his waist and have suspenders) with iron soles (His shoes are mechanically enhanced to give him better jumps), a red-and-white striped slicked-down tailcoat with a grey interior (he turned it inside out and painted it with special "refrigerator paint" that keeps his candy stores from melting), and an armored wide-brimed top hat (he doesn't want to keep buying silk ones) that shadows his face and leaves his big, shining eyes. He also wears a plain white shirt, possibly with a pin shaped like a pair of crossed corndogs.*
*I may make him a river otter man. May not.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I shall, I am pretty much on every day :)*
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
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
“Sounds like we are at an agreement,” He says with a chuckle “A wonderful beginning to any relationship.”
He walks over to them, looking to them “She… loves… enough…” He puts his hands in their shoulders “Love… is… deep…”
“Are you offering?” He says, sitting down in a room at the Inn.
*Not on often in the morning, at least when I get on. Love you, but I must go in fifteen, want to start an rp?*
*Cut for Salem.*
He cackles, joining in the mock toast “I think I am going to rest, you may sleep on my chest if you like.” (I could see these two accidentally dating)
He looks at them, his eyes growing wide as he tries to stop them, his ethereal hands going through them, though he begins to flicker more and more, life slowly returning to his body through the ritual.
He softly moves his hands to their neck, pushing their head out of the way before slipping the fangs into them, draining slowly.
*Excuse me, Salem, did you say victim? Also, sounds like a fun character I would also enjoy attempting to romance, but Salem called dibs first.*
*It's possible.*
*I'll intro tomorrow.*
*He might have glasses by then.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He falls asleep with time, eyes closed, warmth remaining comforting.
Light begins to return to Damian’s eyes, flickering back as the death leaves his body ever slowly, but continues to try and stop them “S-… STOP!”
After a moment he takes his fangs out of them, holding them tightly as he licks the fangs clean, “Delicious.”