| Welcome to our home, a world in which anything can happen. From sprawling deserts and vast forests to massive volcanoes and luscious hot springs, Soare and the Scattered Isles are beautiful places just waiting to be explored. For the brave and the bold or the cautious and the wary, creatures of all kinds roam the earth, looking for adventure or for a place to call their own. Species of all kinds - the well-known and the unknown - thrive here, though not always in harmony. Elenlond is an original medieval fantasy RPG with a world that's as broad as it is unique. Calling on characters of all kinds, the sky's the limit in a world where boundaries are blurred and the imagination runs rampant. Restrictions are limited and members are encouraged to embrace their creativity, to see where they can go and what they can do. It's no longer just text on a page - it becomes real. Enter Our World |
| Paradiso Finis; A party that can't possibly go wrong. | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Nov 29 2014, 10:49 AM (320 Views) | |
| Usiris Atreus | Nov 29 2014, 10:49 AM Post #1 |
![]() ![]()
|
The sweltering sun seething over the seascape of the Takar sands was an ordeal as painfully daunting as it was agonizingly alliterative to those who have traveled across its dunes. No amount of protective clothing could save one from the knifing stings of its light against the body, as the sheer dryness of the desert's atmosphere worked quick to singe skin on a passing breeze. It was certainly no place for the living to be residing in, and yet so many thrived among this arid realm. Usiris was one of many who could call this natural pit of hell his birth place; his home. He knew of its grounds well, and of the harshness it provided to all those who resided within its borders. This was not a place of kindness for the living during the day, nor the night, leaving the early morn and late eve as its golden moments for the sustaining of mankind. But how could such creatures exist within a realm that only provided such limited windows of prosperity across the deadly dunes? Well, as the tailor had come to know, one must persistently seek such windows. One of these gems of prosperity was not limited by time, but instead by space. The Oasis of Ikioi, as it has been named by those older than the undead tailor, is this very diamond in the rough. Among beige oceans of dryness, this flowering growth of hope bloomed as a source of nourishment for weary travelers. It was not a place oft found by the neediest of travelers, but instead discovered by those most fortunate, making its placement among the lifeless dunes all the more precious. For any living soul who dare feel helpless within the desert, the oasis seemed to be waiting for them, green arms wide open to replenish life where it had been lost. How pretentiously drab. When one's life has come to an end, the needs of the living will always seem pointless in the astral form of hindsight. This could not be truer for anyone as it was for Usiris. While its dangers once posed threat to the zombie, given the lack of needs his body and mind possessed in this new form of living, crossing the desert was barely passable as being a threat to his well being. True, there were buzzards that sought his flesh as a feat of carrion, but such creatures burned easily--and surprisingly hilariously. No, the sands no longer posed such threats to the undead as they had in his life. Thus, such an oasis of life had no purpose to someone such as himself. And yet he had pursued its location. Such desire had spawned from a notion in the tailor's head, one revolving around the idiocy of mortals within Ashoka. Sure, the desert was cruel and unforgiving to anyone or anything that dared place its harmless sole upon its sand, but that was just a sign that maybe one should live on the embodiment of nature's hate toward life. The man had to wonder, did such a thought ever cross the mind of a mortal? "Hmm. Perhaps the abysmal chances of my survival this harsh desert is a benevolent sign that residency is not worth the venture." "Oh come now," the zombie murmured, as rich green grass scratched along the soles of his unfeeling feet during his proud step. His path was one carved through the thickets of green, with aim towards a massive palm tree. Its leaves seemed as high as the sky, even blocking the sun for the weathered undead. "One cannot truly live without the risk of kissing death." The chiding voice of reason ringing within shook its head, analogous hands on metaphorical hips. "And it appears you have done just that. But you no longer truly live, if I am not mistaken. This may have been your home during your boyish days, but now these scorching winds do not affect you the same way they once had. You share neither the danger nor the pleasures with those as mortal as you once were." Usiris hesitated before reaching the tree, a whimsical smile curling from beneath the linen wraps. Disembodied voice or otherwise, it had a point. "I think I like you, friend." Reaching his hand back for but a moment, the zombie would spear the hardened ends of his mummified fingers into the base of the wooden monstrosity. A thunderous crackle would echo throughout the area, as the tall, thin tree began to snap at its bottom. In its descent, blackness would spread over its paper-thin bark and along its inner rings, wavering in both the appearance and the danger of a roaring inferno. "But my line between admiration and detest is relatively nonexistent these days." Just what exactly was the zombie doing within this oasis, or rather, to this oasis? Truth be told, not even he had a justifiable answer. Something had drawn the undead back to its lush greenness within the last few days, having been sparked since he had last trekked through the dunes. Life was harsh for all those within the desert, and yet at its crown, there existed such a place of peace and liveliness. The voice stirring within Usiris' head cast its scorn over such an idea; why would such a place exist when he had not the luxury of enjoying what it provided? It demanded that such a place be removed if the tailor was not capable of enjoying it just as well. And Usiris could not have agreed more. So what was his plan to appease the angry old men yakking in his mind? It was simple; were this place to be a beacon of hope, he would need to destroy as much of it as possible. Granted, with such an impressive scale, he saw little chances that he could perform such destruction. But in his mind, a few burning trees, a sweltered lake or two, and the removal of grass would be enough. Bringing and end to this paradise may not seem as poetic a decisions among the many at his disposal, but there was something magical to the idea of burning away an oasis. If only he had a functioning nose to savor it all with. But it seemed that, as the immolated tree hit the ground with an earth-shaking impact, the zombie grew bored already. He hit one tree with one fiery strike, and that was enough for him. No, pure and utter destruction was for barbarians and religious followers. If he was going to remove this place, he was going to gain his own form of enjoyment out of it. His eyes would dance between the burning wood and the scattered streams running through the sea of green. The desert's sand compiled near the running water, as if they were near a-... A beach. How long had it been since the man ever came near the country's edge? Since he could feel the salty brine dry upon his worn legs? Too long to remember, it seemed, though that may be the fault of his early demise clouding his memory. Perhaps this was the perfect time to reclaim such a forgotten moment, while also employing his own brand of destruction to this beautiful oasis. In other words, party time! "Okay," he stared, rubbing his smoldering hands together. "Let's put a pin in the incineration idea, and start on a bonefire." Eyes would be drawn toward the smoking tree laying within the grass, its dark fire still burning as fierce as when it had started. "I'm quite on top of things today," he chortled to himself, as if all had transpired according to his plan. His preparations left much to be desired in terms of the aesthetics, but Usiris was not one to judge on such festivities--only on the outfits his guests would be wearing. Strolling along the grass, blackness began to spread from the soles of the zombie's covered feet, igniting the nearby wildlife in a warm raven shiver of an inferno. His ethereal flames were not those that hungered for more, only burning wherever his maleficent touch had cursed. It made for quite the lovely display, or so Usiris thought. Yes, the decor was ready. Now all Usiris needed were his attendants and the repast. Although between these ideas as well was a line quite nonexistent. |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Leucadius | Jan 6 2015, 03:15 PM Post #2 |
![]() ![]()
|
Heat seared the place. Amidst a collection of wavering mirages, imaginary pools that hovered above the scortching sands, resided the famous Oasis. At the edge of it, in a modest shade, stood an even more humble tent, its vibrant cloth dead still in the disappointingly windless day. Outside the installation sat a figure, clad in similar reds and black patterns as the dismantleable home, their generously tanned face one of dismay and struggle. They had their hands busied by a cooking pot, which rested on a pathetic - but somewhat elaborate - fire before them, worn wooden laddle scraping across the cooking in an infinite double circle, stirring. The young woman paused to scoop a little taste to the tip of their tongue, contemplation wrinkling their smooth forehead like a suddenly appeared cloud. Such a expression was quick to disperse though, at the sound from within the tent that suggested a minor rummage and adjustement of one's garments. Eurwen glanced over their shoulder in awareness, greeting the Oracle in a mutter of 'Gods with You' that was ceremoniously released under their breath. The addressed gave a nod in return, pale eyes locked upon her Acolyte as she made it next to them slowly, heavily veiled form taking a hunched seat, sharp elbows lazily against splayed knees. " Jumalat Ylläsi. " Leucadius uttered in calm response, touching her Apprentice's bare wrist in accustomed gesture, after which they resumed their deed of endless stew division. Her colourful bracelets chimed faintly against each other as she brought her hands together, slender fingers entwining to support her chin. The sightless eyes flickered, watching and wandering to the Oasis that spread before, hosting the nomadic lives that took place in the Desert Emerald. To most it was a scenery of vivid greens and pallid browns, but to her it all displayed like a dark lake on the surface of which sailed the many personalities bright as lanterns. They came in many colours and shapes, a halo of radiation around each in portrayal of their carnal form as a ultimate guideline. She sat frozen, like a statue, staring beside her lively companion in greatest contrast. They erupted an almost unhearable hum from between their smiling lips in idle song, persuading her to cog her head from side to side in tune subtly. Verses of the Old, no less.Wonder whom had taught them that, for she hardly sang herself. A mother walked past, behind them a child that clung to their tanned hand, small steps hurrying to keep the parent's pace. Her gaze locked upon them, meeting the gaze that flashed amber of the Sun, piercing in innocent intrigue. It made her smile and she enjoyed the link for that brief moment, despite what she saw in return, unwillingly receiving images zooming through her Mind at light's speed. Answering her restrained feature of mirth, the child smiled back, somewhere in the Darkness. Pienimmät arkuista, Painavimmat kaikista Idoneia wasn't one to stray these parts too often, her state of residence and house of profession having been set at the City of Oracles since a tiny forever. It was in rather rare occasion - terribly sparse and by wealthy requests only - that she made it outside the City, but once she did... It was more often than not to deliver the deeds most grave. It had been a funeral this time around, two days past. She was not a Magician nor a Priestess by expertise, but as an Oracle - and one of Immense Age - did she hold an amount of knowledge upon both, along with understanding upon some Ancient Rites and Tradition. Naturally, the latter made her a valid option for executing a ceremony, in the form of speaking burial verses and crafting scrolls which were to help the passed in the Underworld, both filled with Magical words from the long-gone era. That was, if the Dead or their family believed in such. She surely did, in all of it, for there was no Religion she hadn't accepted. Most would've called her ways heresy, but to her all the Gods were connected and of some Truth. Thus, she was only using her smarts by worshipping them all, rather than a fraction. Gods were known for gaining jealousy from favouritism, like Children. Suddenly, the peaceful hum next to her stopped, a shiver of garments inclining the turn of a head and halt of all else. The laddle let out a hollow clonk as it hit the rim of the blackened pot, Eurwen's form directing up from their seat in strange haste. They seemed to be browsing the surrounding for a moment, judging by the sound their earrings made when their head swung around aware like that of a predator. " There is something burning..." Eurwen begun, sniffing the air and taking a step away, out of the shade. Leucadius adjusted her sleeves silently, tracing their startled movement. " Yes, for if you have not noticed there is a Fire right under your Cooking. " She responded, sincere. Her notion only gained a scolding flail of hands as the Apprentice made their way further off, craning their neck to see across the Oasis. Was only a quiet minute later that the moan of timber reached, a crash of branches hitting both sand and feeble grass. The sound came from a dangerously close radius. Swift as ever, Eurwen was already making their way towards the noise, the determinate creak of their sandals demanding explanation. " There is someone felling and searing precious Trees in there, am going to investigate! I'll be right back! " The Oracle exhaled, levering herself from the ground slowly in conclusion. There was no doubt that her Apprentice couldn't handle themselves, thus it was rather their opponent that she was concerned about. Along with the general peace and order. *** " Hey! You there! " Eurwen closed in on the assumed troublemaker, taking in the utterly eldrich details on the way, such as the blazing trails on the ground and the somewhat suspicious clothing the other sported. While otherwise quite friendly by stature, with a set of garments on the side of classy and no weapons on sight, the wraps upon their face ignited a whole lot of questions. Only thieves and murderers wore masks... Along with a few strange sects of priests and necromancers. Folding her arms, Eurwen stopped at about twenty feet from the man, adjusting her hood. Her look was upon them in dire questioning, gaze calculating and measuring, only now noticing the amount of linen wraps. At this distance, the more appropriate question seemed to be of their Origin, rather than their Purpose, which had been the reason of her approach at first. The Apprentice cleared her throat, clumsily, straightening the confused posture. " What... are You? And why are you destroying our Oasis? " At that point, a cough reached from behind her, its goal to catch one hasty attention. " Eurwen, you are being rude. He has a personality, thus you should address him as such. Also, we do not own the Oasis. " The Oracle uttered, appearing next to the taller Acolyte in the dry slosh of sand. Her empty look hovered above the Stranger, fog swirling upon the muted hues like ink, pale fingers around the staff that supported her broken being. " Fiiiiiiine. " Making a particular face, Eurwen waved her hands. " Who are You, Mister? And why are you destroying this honourary Oasis? " Good girl. // Translations: Jumalat Ylläsi ~ Gods Above You Pienimmät arkuista, Painavimmat kaikista ~ Smallest of coffins, the heaviest of them all // |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Usiris Atreus | Jan 7 2015, 06:01 PM Post #3 |
![]() ![]()
|
By the gods. His arduous work beneath a cruel sun had conjured a craving for both company and collation, and sure enough, a prime example of both had stumbled right into fray. The shrill bark it had let loose in order to receive the tailor's attention sounded quite healthy, if not in fact youthful. Lost children were a delicacy that had yet to enter the undead's palette, though the absence of experience was not the absence of interest. Perhaps this oasis truly was a blessing to the desert people, a miracle for the deserving, as divinity had seemingly gifted this tortured soul with his worldly desires. A smooth and graceful turn of his head would initiate Usiris' greeting of his acquaintantizer, though its elegant movement would stop suddenly. This gift was no sunbaked youth seeking hope in this green pasture, but instead a rather larger sunbaked woman. Though hidden beneath the folds of many robes, all of which the savant scourge saw as tasteless, her body held itself firm with broad muscles. Were he the physically judgmental type, Usiris would have made the comparison of this mystically adorned woman to the likes of a healthy adolescent male. "You look like a giant boy," he said bluntly, looking his acquaintance over with the mixed expression of crushing disappointment and unbridled derision. Turns out that he is the physically judgmental type. Usiris would turn the rest of his body to face the stranger, having been through such motions before; the stranger says something demanding, the dashing hero says something witty, the stranger starts a fight, and it ends with one of the two on the spit. It just so happens that the zombie had already prepped the fire; he was already two steps ahead of the game in this situation. However, whatever spark of violence that had embered within his being was extinguished as another woman entered the scene, the otherworldly nature of her appearance stopping the scourge For once, Usiris was at a loss for words. There was nothing to be said of such mysticism in this elder's visage. So instead, he doubled over in an uncontrollable manic laughing fit. This thing had to be the most foul looking woman the once-man had ever set his eyes upon, dead and alive. She must have be a millennia old to have ever become so painful to one's sense of sight. Had she ever looked into a mirror? Most likely not, considering how milky those cataracts are. It was quite the blessing she had lost her sight however many centuries ago it must have been; were she to know just how much semblance she now bore with the Reaper himself, she may crawl back into her grave. And on that note, had this tanned traveling tomboy of her just dug her out of the cemetery? The woman seemed more rotted to the core than Usiris, and he was an actual undead monstrosity! He had tried to regain his composition, raising a finger in retort to the taller woman's words. However, upon meeting eyes with the elder once more, the strength in Usiris' decrepit knees gave out, sending the man toppling to the ground, holding his sides as musky heaves of air gagged out of his maw in laughter. And to think he was going to eat whoever showed up. What a turnout this had become. |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Leucadius | Feb 5 2015, 05:27 AM Post #4 |
![]() ![]()
|
There was a generous minute of silence. And after that, the man released what could've been described as deranged cackle. Mainly due to the amount of dedication they gave for such an expression. Above all, it made the prio awkward quiet seem like a Gods' blessing. The dumbfound duo could do nothing except stare, eyes widened in mild confusion. Soon enough, as was expected, the loudmouth apprentice recovered and chose the share what was upon their wordy chest. " And You think I was being rude, huh? " Eurwen brought their hand upon their heart. " He called me a boy. And now he is laughing at us. " Idoneia spied them beginning to roll their sleeves up. Her face like a still pond, she placed a hand upon their forearm in attempt of calming them, at which point the Apprentice huffed like a chained and utterly frustrated canine. Muttering something along the lines of ' I will beat him to death ' and ' Die out of laughter, will you? ', they withdrew and folded their arms tightly in further and most reluctant restrain. " I am quite positive he is not laughing at Us. He is laughing at me in particular. " The Oracle started, look bouncing between the flickering images of both Eurwen and the Stranger. The former fabricated as a shape rimmed by fire, with equal purpose to destroy and attract, mostly at the same time. Was one to stray too near towards the temptative warmth, were they most likely to get burnt. The latter however... She noticed herself being the one staring in mixed awe now. The man hadn't struck her as someone who spontaneously was humoured by the sheer appearance of another. It was closer to a way of confronting, a built in manner of malicious interraction when spikey sarcasm and hasty wit were at loss. Their surrounding lines displayed as bent bars, ever moving, but ever present, equally defending and caging within something that was still a mystery to her. For all she knew it was yearning to get out, nevermind its identity. She watched closely as they toppled to the ground like a beetle struck by a forceful gust, wiggling in amusement that had begun seeming like a rather painful experience. The swirling figure writhed like a snake with salted wounds. In an old and well-forgotten story though, the serpent hadn't always been as such; bereft of limbs and manners, the very embodiment of evil. It had rather become what it was by making a mistake that had angered another, the pettiness of them shaping the viperous form anew to one of less quality and function. Hence the hatred and denial, she figured. The Oracle took a step forth, so to be before her Apprenctice just a bit in feigned athority. She straightened her posture some, the opalescent moonstones of her necklaces shimmering as they met with the Sun, misty eyes set upon the man in determination from under the decorated hood that shadowed. A set of miragelike entities sped past then, many mixed messages filling the heavy air with new pressure, generally towards the uncertainty it all posed. Amidst it all a breeze crept in, grabbing at the hems and sleeves of participants in a desertly hum. Her empty expression gained something of an inspectorial facet as her attention locked on the Stranger fully. " Your redemption lies not within this humble edge. Why have You come, Ser? To stir, maybe? " |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Usiris Atreus | Feb 21 2015, 10:55 AM Post #5 |
![]() ![]()
|
Dry sniffles would accompany the end of the tailor's laughing fit, his once heaving breathes now falling into shallow huffs and chortles. By the gods, he hadn't felt himself riddled with such giddiness since his previous desert adventure had crossed his path with that of a roaming caravan of pyrotechnic trinkets; how beautiful the infernal flowers that bloomed from their wagon that night were. But it seemed that there were only more lotuses to bloom this day, however; it seemed his reaction to the presence of his acquaintances had inspired some anger in the younger, and intrigue in the older. Perhaps there would be even more glorious fireworks to come. However, the old woman's response to his laughter was not that of what the scourge had anticipated, her words carrying great weight behind them. Even the beast felt the shock of revelation after hearing her mutterings. Redemption. This was the path he had found himself on months ago, one that he had sought despite his nature of carnage and travesty, now abandoned. No longer did he seek his former self, nor did he wish to atone for the actions caused in his undeath. And yet she reminded him of this mission. What shocked him had not been her knowledge of his path, but of her insistence on its existence. The zombie's deadened stare would shift between the noseless sage and her youth. Just who were these two guests of his, really? She with the child's features was clearly the more human of the two, whose expression urged the need to throttle the tailor's rotten neck for his insolence. But the hag, the noseless witch that watched onward with fogged eyes, she seemed to see something other than a hilarious and charming and handsome creature of scorn. "Isn't it obvious, she who nose much?" The man would spread his arms wide, revealing the flames consuming the downed tree, and the shimmering air that rose above its seared surface. It was a start, sure, but it was sure to grow into what was something spectacular. "I'm hosting a luau!" His eyes smiled above his cheeks, as he turned his attention to the younger woman. "And it seems you've brought the hors d'oeuvres. Wonderful." Usiris looked back to the noseless shrew in the sands. "Unless you have come for another reason, though I cannot imagine something greater than my festivity." |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Leucadius | May 14 2015, 09:06 PM Post #6 |
![]() ![]()
|
Puns. Hah, if they only knew all the things she saw, the manner how the sight extended across and beyond to a way less comprehendable forms, morphing in meaning. Though she could not see in the mundane, not the harsh and basic way that was advanteous for a being's survival, her vision wasn't any less true. It was rather... multifaceted, able of driving simpler minds mad. Not that she was entirely sane either, though she figured that the innate insanity was what provided for deflection of greater madness, conveniently. A smile crackled across The Oracle's stoic features, curling weathered corners into understanding and warmth, as if watching a children's play. Their expression of glee was false, somehow carved and hollow, husk of a hive stolen from its lively inhabitants. And yet, though some of the mind was gone a brilliant spirit remained, illuminant and composed, truthful and accepting of self. The frankness, exaggeration and emotiveness through stained cheer in this man was quite refreshing, their repertoir of eternal -if dark- jester tossing aside all other purpose and reaction. Them the only scripter, director and lead actor, the world their stage for the ultimate and epic tragicomedy. The entirety was inviting and banishing at the same time, a display of utter intrigue but with shades that hovered on the side of disturbing, like an appealing image that portrayed something forbidden and made the beholder indecisive whether to stay or stray away, conflicted. She felt them one of intelligence, both literal and figurative, though it saddened her that such a fine quality and potential was merely employed by witty comebacks, pronounced theatrics and honest mischief. Or thus she suspected, though her reference was upon the narrowest of observational timescales, a fact that she was wishing to change in an exceeding measure. Against common and Eurwen's sense as it was coming out, coincidentally. " Derve-what? " The apprentice begun, tilting their head like a dog that didn't quite know what it was hearing. " Making fun of me, aren't you. Oh, I'll show you... derverye! " She watched, minor grin prevailing, grabbing the youngster by their sleeve that had begun rolling upwards once again and giving it a yank so to halt them. " He means the first course, Eurwen. " " Well, I am not that either! " Their voice had risen to a near aggravated roar, arm swinging to pull free from her grasp and their form spun upon a heel in a flap of robes. " Call me a child, but am going to eat the rest of the pastries. Right now. Raw. " A hand accompanied the words with a hurricane of gestures, at each and every one, hither and tither. The mentor merely staid still, an isle of calm amidst a raging sea, staring with halfly hooded hues. And so, they stormed off. Idoneia found herself passively stationary, unable or maybe unwilling to express a reaction of any kind, be it verbal or otherwise upon external vessel. Her stare hovered on and around the man, suspended, their further inquiry deepening her smile some. Such confidence... If anything, this was a game she wished to see through. " There is always a why, though most of the time I like to think I've just... simply chosen to arrive, migrate from a place to another. Of course, I cannot deny that most of that happens in the wake of my apprentice, thus I might guess that counts as an actual agenda. For many things, if not countless. " A step was taken forward at the end, a scan extending from under a tiny concentrative frown, that of a keen listener that tried to hear each flicker of the universe. The fire crackled, humming under a gust that shivered for all the sand, the creak of palms and their leaves an undertone behind the intimate scape. Best take action. " Anyhow... I'd think your honourary event needs a bit of advertisement. For as you can see, we are terribly... Bereft of guests. And I'd imagine it a terrible fate for you to be forced into my company alone, to have your luau attended solely by one as me. " She rearranged the sincere smile into a devious grin, throwing her arms up like a conductor readying to guide a multitude of strings into the symphony of a lifetime, wide sleeves withdrawing to the crooks and exposing a legth of slender paleness. A few more hasty steps and she was before the fire, muttering under her breath. " Nouse luokseni, tule tyköni, taivu tahtooni.* " A clenched fist opened, tossing a reagent to the fire in enhancement. The powder exploded cheerfully, letting the bonfire emanate a denser fog with a purple tint, soaring skywards. Her arms flowed, back and forth smoothly aking to those of a harpist submerged into their work. The smoke weaved and swirled under her power, like a beast readying to pounce. At conclusion, all else halted and she threw an arm up. Two steaming orbs shot to the air, leaving a duality of widening wakes and splitting at the end, imagery complete to a multitude of descending splits. Two palm trees, crossing, a sculpture that staid animate in a false wind. She brought her hands down, looking at it for a tiny second. Yes, this must've been her best work so far. " It has been foretold that the Osasis will host a wondorous party. " Her hues slipped over her shoulder. " Whether it will be by you or another, is yet to be decided. For all I know, you are strongly rivaled by a local carpet salesman. Can't remember his name, but it is his daughter's birthday. The sixt, if I remember right. " // * Rise to me, come to me, bend under my will. |
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Roleplays · Next Topic » |


















