silence's latest activity
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Pity. Disgust. Good eye contact He snarled. Then without his muzzle. Teeth bared, eyes glinting like knife points. All the hot haze... -
silence reacted to Rois Sinclair's post in the thread Private Born to Bloom or Meant to Wither [M] with
Cry.
… The non-speaking aspect was perhaps far more important. And she is speaking again. In real time Lucero could see the ebbing of... -
“Am not—!” “Er…” “Are too! Are too!” “’Ey now—” Little Isabelle’s face screws up with indignant rage as she begins to yell...
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Monroe had never been good at names. Her eyes lifted to watch the fallout from her true aim, what flame and arrow achieved. It... it...
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“Are you of Dusk or Dawn?” Osytha’s face falls a little when she hears that. Syr Monroe really doesn’t remember her, then? Sure...
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All that was around her was fire and panic and the screams of the dead. But she sprinted for her life, her knees aching from spilling...
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Dig deep, son of Omin; defeat is not allowed. If you fall, who shall carry the standard of Revival? Mathis listed and watched her out...
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Listening carefully, Tool finished arranging his desk space accordingly; inhaling, his eyes slowly narrowed at the sound of booted feet...
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silence reacted to Rois Sinclair's post in the thread Private Born to Bloom or Meant to Wither [M] with Cry.
“I don’t care.” This is not repeated, so it is easy for one to assume that the statement was regarding, well, everything. Everything...
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silence reacted to Rois Sinclair's post in the thread Private Born to Bloom or Meant to Wither [M] with
honk.
It was to be expected. The braveness of the horse had fled as fast as its legs could metaphorically carry it, turning into a sweeping... -
silence reacted to Wither's post in the thread Himbo Contest | Bi-Annual Festival of Muscles with
Magical!.
Flex those muscles and be admired by all, it is that time again for the hes, shes, and theys of Astenvale and beyond to make their way... -
Amongst the many eyes which turn to Syr Monroe, at least one pair lack the surprise of their fellows… which is not to say they’re any...
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While the old foggies went on talking. Brinda played with her new knife. Tossing it up and down. Up and down. Watching the handle tumble...
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"You've any leads on who penned the Caza Script?" 'None,' replied the orkin, shrugging, 'though they appear adamant that I should be...
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Her gaze fell on him, unimpressed and very much done with his presence here. "You did this. All of this! She thinks we are courting...
