[It takes a long while for him to write back after that. Don't ask why.]
Corypheus.
Heresy flatters me in a way that religion— even the ruling aspects of it— never could. I've seen too much divinity in my time: I'd rather become god than ply another one's script.
Besides, all that means is that when I inevitably storm your tower, I'll push you on your back across that altar to complete my ursurpation, and rut you until you're a pliant, well-behaved, whimpering mess.
One with a new god to serve, I think.
[An elf can (wet) dream, after all.]
Sex shop. Your rowdy packmates know more than enough about me as it stands, whereas deftly skirting the affections of a fleet of lovedrunk nobles is just another day ending in [err, well:] -day.
[No, really, look up the days of the week in DnD. Ridiculous.]
no subject
[It takes a long while for him to write back after that. Don't ask why.]
Corypheus.
Heresy flatters me in a way that religion— even the ruling aspects of it— never could. I've seen too much divinity in my time: I'd rather become god than ply another one's script.
Besides, all that means is that when I inevitably storm your tower, I'll push you on your back across that altar to complete my ursurpation, and rut you until you're a pliant, well-behaved, whimpering mess.
One with a new god to serve, I think.
[An elf can (wet) dream, after all.]
Sex shop. Your rowdy packmates know more than enough about me as it stands, whereas deftly skirting the affections of a fleet of lovedrunk nobles is just another day ending in [err, well:] -day.
[No, really, look up the days of the week in DnD. Ridiculous.]
Fuck, marry, kill: Danarius, Cazador, Meredith.