o R N the writing becomes jagged, frenzied, childish. The curtains flail, cushions are thrown, and in the kitchen, the cabinets start banging wildly. A wave of voices suddenly curdles to the surface as the dust on the floor spins in a controlled tornado around the room. Within Wessex might catch flashes of teeth, of eye-less faces, of clumps of hair and discarded toes. "REBORN." They scream, they question, they accuse. "REBORN?????????" LONGNIGHT |
[Seasonal Event] Table for one, please
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Age: 7 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck: - Int:
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02-18-2019, 10:11 PM
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