Everybody knows...

Dusty
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To see a Keeper is not an easy thing, especially one who does not wish to be seen.

Posts: 211

Everybody knows... May 24, 2022 2:25:16 GMT

Post by Dusty on May 24, 2022 2:25:16 GMT

A red cloak. A girl. A red cloak, a girl in the red cloak. Roaming the streets of Praach, late at night. The moonlight shining on that red cloak. A contrast between the streets, blood red while the moon shined down on her. Her face covered - strings of black hair escaping her cloak. Silky hair. Well kept. A sigil; binding the cloak around her neck that covers the rest of her. It reached down to her boots. Boots of a noble - everything about her was noble. But there was something incredibly uncanny about her.

Anyone gazing upon her visage would look away from her instantly. The tense air around her makes it even hard to look at her. Anyone who did hesitated for a moment. All they could see was her fancy clothes, her elegant cloak - but she looked like she didn’t belong. As if her very being was a perversion of nature.

In a way - it was. In another - it wasn’t. A contradiction.

As the mystery woman walked about the streets until she stopped outside of a tavern. A belly of information - she was looking for something. Something from her past. Something she had neglected for a long time. It meant a lot to her to find it. And the starting point had to be in a place where secrets were spoke in hushed whispers, in a place where the walls didn’t just have ears. They also had eyes.

Make her presence known. And the best place? Here.

So she put her hands onto the door, walking in and just hearing the room go silent. She stood out - of course she did. A girl with skin like snow, in a royal red cloak. Something from stories. But this story she had started weave would be anything but just.

She would approach the bar, whispers being heard all around her. Mutterings. Common-folk avoiding eyes, trying to focus on their drinks. The girl would walk up, sit down. And pull out a piece of paper.

"Hi. I am but a newfound babe, lost - alone. I need truth and secrets, muttered words that none would speak aloud."

The way she spoke, somehow direct and indirect. Anyone hearing her would just give her a look. What in the seven hells did she just say? Why was she speaking like that? Who...?

"I seek those who detailed the story of Evie The Mad."

Silence.

Subject 16

The Painter

---

Agency Of Supernatural Acquisitions

Paperbag Fill
Member

Posts: 361

Everybody knows... May 24, 2022 3:53:51 GMT

Post by Paperbag Fill on May 24, 2022 3:53:51 GMT

Remonn Luther

❃

May the gods damn it all. What in the actual fuck did it take for some nonce to not walk in and act like they were the center of the bloody show of the universe?

The first few thoughts to cross his half sober mind. Tonight was supposed to be his break from Praach, life, everything. After this, he would go to sleep and remain under the covers until morning and remains still until it reached the afternoon. Let the mad creatures and mercenaries of the night have their fun but not at his expense. Not at this keep that sold the only kind of booze he could tolerate pouring down his gullet and calling it any good.

"And then I said, 'No you fool! The other sword!'"

Like the girl, he spoke to no one in particular, creating an outburst to counter her own. Hell, he did not even craft a set up for the punchline. He wanted life and sound to flood this room once more, not this sad music of silence that pervaded and perverted this place. It messed up the entire feng shui he liked so much about his favorite drinking spot. Remonn set his cup down and looked around. Silence. Everyone was so afraid of this girl. Not him. Especially not now with liquid courage pumping his veins. If he happened to regret what would happen next, it would be a fair change of pace, would it not?

"No one gives a shit, girl. Better luck somewhere else."

If it was rude, so be it. His mood was foul right now, and there was little to change it. But on top of it all, it was factual as his tone did little to change from its apparent apathy. No one did care. The only reason people gave a damn for a few moments right now was because no one sent little girls into the keep unless it was to pick up booze for someone too drunk or too hungover to get out of bed. The fact she had done neither and did a little creepy song and dance just made everyone pause.

Almost everyone.

And also unlike everyone else, Remnon Luther was not someone who was going to peel his eyes away from a girl just because there happened to be a "sense" of superstitious nonsense about her. She was like everyone else or every other person at least who thought they could glean information from a barkeep. That was never how these things worked. Those were for stories or adventurer tales. If she wanted to find people with dirty information or dirty secrets, she'd at least have to turn herself away from the bar and towards whatever direction that was not Luther's way.

He downed his drink and stared off away from the girl, only looking on occasion in case she made any sudden moves or remarks. It seems noise would begin to filter in after his brief interjection.

Just how he liked it. Background noise to his evening as he stared into his drink, like it was the most interesting thing in the world and much too tired this evening.

❃

Last Edit: May 25, 2022 1:36:17 GMT by Paperbag Fill

Dusty
Member

To see a Keeper is not an easy thing, especially one who does not wish to be seen.

Posts: 211

Everybody knows... May 25, 2022 1:14:18 GMT

Post by Dusty on May 25, 2022 1:14:18 GMT

“We asked a question.”

The girl would turn to the man, standing up and looking at him. While being short, her visage was - spooky. Eerie. While the people in the tavern started talking and some volume, something else happened. If the man would look around the room, people would be tapping at the table. Looking agitated, paranoid - not even subtle in their actions. Some would turn their heads, looking around as if they were being chased. Others would be loud, shouting far too loudly. Others would be giggling uncontrollably - and some would be biting their nails, ripping the skin from their fingers. Not to harm, more like they were nervous.

What seemed even more strange, the closer the people were to the woman - the worse the effects were. People got more paranoid, more angry and even more self destructive. It was like she was the epicentre of these people getting more and more to the edge, passively. She knew she was, but she didn’t care.

“You do not need to answer the question. Just point the way. And then, we will leave.”

She simply stated, turning her head back towards the barkeep - placing down some coins and shifting it forward. Uncaring for the man next to her. The insect next to her. Maybe it was because his senses were dumbed down by the drink, but he didn’t feel what the people in the bar felt just yet. Maybe just some itching at the back of his skull, some goosebumps in his skin. Nothing like the poor people around, giggling manically and loudly shouting.

“A penny. For what riddles in your brain matter. Sing like a swallow, you will get paid.”

Subject 16

The Painter

---

Agency Of Supernatural Acquisitions

Paperbag Fill
Member

Posts: 361

Everybody knows... May 25, 2022 2:14:29 GMT

Post by Paperbag Fill on May 25, 2022 2:14:29 GMT

Remonn Luther

❃

Sitting as he was, Remonn Luther's left eyebrow rose slightly, noting the peculiar nature of the girl. She was standing now, short as can be. Remonn was--what?--six foot, more or less? Yes, somewhere around there. Meanwhile, this girl stood at a height that he was sure that if he placed his hand upon her head, she'd never reach him with her arms. Still, with her full face and body turned towards him, Luther could finally glance at the girl and take note of her appearance. Pale. Red eyes. Ruby lips. Dark auburn or brown hair. Barely a blemish and not a hint of superficial makeup on her face. Not even bags or freckles or even a misplaced wrinkle.

His silver eyes glanced at her. Artificial. Cold. Yet behaving like real, like alive. Accentuated by slight discoloration under those eyes, a constant fight against the bags that threatened to form.

"And I told you to get lost as nicely as possible. Seems we're both plenty disappointed right now, aren't we?"

He was not sober enough for this. Especially not for this nonsense as he shifted his head, turning his body to the left and right slightly as his hair shifted along slightly in opposite to each direction. What in the nine hells was happening? The place had a reputation for not even having a single barfight. One could even sleep on the floor and not get robbed of everything they owned. And yet this respectable establishment was in a right tizzy after this girl entered.

Yes, Remonn had a good idea of who and what this girl was. A problem. Right from the beginning he clocked her as one. Good to know his instincts were on point even in his drunken stupor.

"You want a fucking direction? Right there. Go on. Shoo."

The cloaked man pointed towards the entrance she had come in through before waving her off. Nothing pissed him off more than having his evening ruined like this. Now this was being unbearable. People shouting and groaning and laughing in unnatural thrums and twistings of the throat and vocal chords. A crawling feeling reached parts of his skin, down to his bones. The noise bounced in the drums of his ears.

All that was left was the same disinterested and annoyed expression, changing slightly to frustration. What happened to him staring at his drink without a care in the world? What had happened to then, gods? This was pathetic. This whole deal. He grabbed a drink from one of the other patrons. The most grievous offense in this bar besides the girl's presence here. One night. He could not get one night. Someone had to come along with their problems and ruin a peaceful evening. There were a dozen different taverns and bars.

Why in all the gods' damned nine hells did she pick this one?

"You still here?"

His left hand snapped out and grabbed the coin. It slid, metal against wood, as he shifted over to the man next to him, the one whose drink was stolen. Remonn paused for a moment after this. Nope, still not sober enough for this, not at all. He took a deep breath. The noise began to fade away a little as he focused. Just a little. Making himself sober right now was not on the agenda. But this girl was really pushing it right now. All the buzzing, the atmosphere, floated off of him light rain on a broadsword. His eyes looked at the girl as he slightly turned to her, resting on arm on the counter while another remained on his left leg. Four down. Left side. Disorient then go for the underside of the mouth. His thinking resumed back to the conversation.

"What's the payment? Because, frankly, I don't plan to go into any dark alleyways with you if that's where this conversation is going. You've got a few moments to drop the whole creepy-ass, vague riddle schtick or what else, and talk like an actual fucking person."

He rubbed the side of his forehead with the arm on the counter, leaning over slightly against the wooden top to do so.

"And drop whatever the nine different hells of weird you're doing to these people. It's not impressive. I could pay literally anyone with a spellbook to do this. Get on with it or I throw you ass out. Simple as that."

And he was getting closer to sober. Perfect.

❃

Last Edit: May 25, 2022 2:15:14 GMT by Paperbag Fill

Dusty
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To see a Keeper is not an easy thing, especially one who does not wish to be seen.

Posts: 211

Everybody knows... May 25, 2022 2:52:44 GMT

Post by Dusty on May 25, 2022 2:52:44 GMT

The girl would smirk, before just letting out a sigh. She would tap on the counter, before a bottle smashing against a table could be heard. The situation, her just being here - it was aggravating everyone now. Threats were being thrown around, accusations of being followed - even threats of death. Final death.

The girl would just keep up her tapping, each rhythmic beat being heard and echo-ing in the tavern. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Tap. The mouse ran up the clock - the clock struck one, the mouse fell down. Hickory dickory dock.”

She would hum under her breath. Whatever she was doing, it was clear it wasn’t an act. To be fair, she didn’t want it to reach a point of violence. The girl just wanted directions to somewhere - and for once she wanted to try and get the answers she sought without any trouble. Say what you want about creatures of the night, this one respected these people's time. And around her, their time was running out.

“We are a compass spinning wildly. We only sought a captain to point us in a direction - it was you who got all… Cruel. Have you ever heard the tale of Evie The Mad?”

The same question, asked differently. Evie The Mad - a cautionary tale that scared young maidens into staying on the course. To live a life of nobility. About a girl who went mad and burned down her estate, killed her father and left. While documented, it faded into a story. Not many believed it was much more than a story.

Another tap, and another bottle smashed - this time over someone's head. The girl would turn her head towards the man, smiling - brightly. Menacingly. Her eyes were red, dull. Despite the small pockets of violence breaking out in the bar, she didn’t care. Her smile got bigger at the mention of being kicked out.

“Like the weak minded lambs they are - they walk towards their slaughter. We aren’t doing this; they’re just weak. Embracing those little feelings. Secrets they kept to themselves. Bubbling to the surface, like a stew of deceit and lies and truths never told.”

The girl would explain, before standing up and stepping back - opening her arms and lowering her hood. Showing her pale visage, glowing red eyes. She would just stand there, watching as people hid and others started to get to the breaking point. She would just smile widely, her sharp teeth with a cheery smile.

“We will leave - once we get the information we asked for.”

Subject 16

The Painter

---

Agency Of Supernatural Acquisitions

Paperbag Fill
Member

Posts: 361

Everybody knows... May 25, 2022 4:09:14 GMT

Post by Paperbag Fill on May 25, 2022 4:09:14 GMT

Remonn Luther

❃

The nursery rhyme held little significance, nor was the girl's remark. The smash of a bottle behind him elicited a small response--a quick yet small turn of the head in that direction--and he would get on that in a few. Right now, his mind began to turn the cogs and grind and ground the meal and flour together. At first, the girl only mentioned herself in the singular vernacular.

Now, she referred to herself as "we". A plural vernacular. Oh perfect, he was nearly sober. And less than inclined to be any more cruel to the girl. For now, anyway.

"The world is cruel. And, in my defense, you're fucking creepy and not all too bright from where I'm sitting."

A sigh escaped his lips before he leaned off the counter and stood up from his chair.

"You won't find anything here, first off. Any nonce can tell you that. Second off, don't fuck with me in this particular parlor. I'm not in the mood."

His legs moved as he stalked forward, as if he intended to walk past her and leave this place entirely. Before his left arm would reach out to grab her by the scruff of her cloak and clothing underneath and intend to lift her up with more ease than it should have been. If and once his left gloved hand found purchase, his arm would remain straight and keep her lifted off the ground before walking towards the doors leading outside. The other hand simply reached out towards the other patrons of the bar and a single phrase was uttered with contempt from his lips.

"Calm the fuck down, you twats."

Magic countered magic. A calming effect would settle on the area. Hopefully, long and powerful enough to keep from anyone murdering each other before he could get this girl and her whole mess settled. This little underhanded spell had a limited duration. He doubted the fanged miscreant in his company did not have a similar problem when it came to her abilities.

"Third off, you're full of it. Dumb luck, that is. So you get your help, but it's not for free. And it's not out of any kindness for you or any love for them."

If she sought to fight back or perhaps injure his arm, she would find herself hapless in that particular course of action. All her nails and fists would find is metal under the gloved hand and under the arm clothe of his coat. And, if she found herself not particularly bothered to escape, she would find Remonn Luther did not plant to throw her out or release her on the street like he said he would. Not a single movement betrayed any particular exertion or suddenness to commit such an act at all.

Instead, the man's whole intent would be to keep walking away from the tavern, carrying her all the while, until a space of a couple of buildings was put between the pair of them and the bar tavern. Far enough before stopping and then bringing his unamused focus onto her to bear. She had brought madness out in others. She would find that she brought something else entirely different out in him. What it happened to be, well, only he knew.

❃

Last Edit: May 25, 2022 4:11:57 GMT by Paperbag Fill

Dusty
Member

To see a Keeper is not an easy thing, especially one who does not wish to be seen.

Posts: 211

Everybody knows... May 29, 2022 8:25:50 GMT

Post by Dusty on May 29, 2022 8:25:50 GMT

Click.

As the cloak was grabbed, the girl didn’t make an attempt to fight back. She didn’t need to. As soon as it was pulled on, it would wrap around his arm - trying to grab and tie up his other as she moved her hand and rolled back.

She would keep her hand raised, moving it around slowly. Now that he had a closer look at it, it was blood red - for a good reason. Soaked in her own blood. Dyed red from bleed - something she did intentionally. Blood magic was something she was good at being a vampire; so manipulating a cloak soaked in her own was childsplay. Best part, she didn’t need to drain a human to do it.

At the end of the day, however, it was still a cloak. Even if it was going to restrain him, it wouldn’t last too long. So she would just stand to her feet; everything she was hiding under her cloak was revealed. A bloodied white dress, pale skin. Little leather boots; despite being ruined by someone's blood it was clear her clothes were very… Noble looking. High end, regal. It was a shame it was ruined.

The cloak would whip around, tying itself to his hand and trying to capture his other. Like a cloth shackle, aimed to keep his hands to himself as she walked back towards the bar. Then she would just toss another coin onto it.

“The weave requires me elsewhere. Have a party! Drinks on the house - from Evie The Mad.”

The girl would smile before whipping out a dagger, slicing down her arm. Blood would drip onto the floor before the girl splashed it towards the others in the room. Maybe even the man, if he wasn’t careful enough.

The fun little fact about Vitae from the clan of vampires Evie hailed from. It was corrupting in its influence; there was a reason she lived for so long in the underbelly of the world. Her blood was the quickest way to contract her unique brand of insanity. All it had to do was land in people's eyes, mouth; even open wounds. And she was splashing it everywhere.

That was the tipping point. The people had calmed from the magical influence, but as some caught her blood in their eyes? They screamed. And started clawing at other people. Ghoulish, horrific clawing as Evie laughed like a maniac. She would keep splashing it around, running to dive bomb out of a window. As she got closer to it, her wounds were already closing up.

Truly despicable.

Subject 16

The Painter

---

Agency Of Supernatural Acquisitions

Paperbag Fill
Member

Posts: 361

Everybody knows... Jun 1, 2022 23:43:35 GMT

Post by Paperbag Fill on Jun 1, 2022 23:43:35 GMT

Remonn Luther

❃

As his hand grasped onto the cloak, what Luther's eyes saw did not betray his instincts. He was right to grab ahold of any part of her or her clothing with his mechanical limb as the cloak rippled before snaking and snapping shut on the limb as the cloak removed itself from the girl. It began trying to encircle around his other limb, snapping around his flesh and bone arm before fighting with him. He struggled in vain before the mechanical apparatus that made up his left arm under the cloak began to shift.

Fuck. I like these gloves.

A blade emerged from the arm, tearing through the cloak as well as his left glove. It gave him the leverage to begin wrestling it under control, using his mechanical limb to tear free of the cloak for grabbing ahold of it and try peeling it off his regular arm.

His eyes briefly glanced upward towards the girl. Her movement, her words, were background until he caught the glint of her dagger against the light from the lanterns and candles within the tavern.

And she was cutting herself.

"Figures this be the response to my sparklin-. Shit fuck!"

He brought the cloak wrapped on his one limb to cover himself as the blood flew his way, scattering amongst the crowd. What was she doing? She kept scattering the blood and, while he may not have been able to fend all of it off with the cloak, he would worry about that in a minute. Right now, the patrons of the little drinking pub were beginning to claw the eyes out of anyone they saw, even their own.

Not his version of a good time as he ducked under the swipe of someone's disgusting nails. Leaping onto the countertop, Remonn kept his eyes on the girl as he freed the fingers of his right limb from the cloak. It kept tight around him, like a vice. He needed it removed. Reaching into his coat with the few fingers he had freed, he pulled out a small pinch of sulfur from the inside of his coat.

It lit aflame as a hexadronal, almost kaleidoscopic greenish-blue shape that mimicked fire erupted from that sulfur along his arm. Not burning him but more than rendering the blood cloak to dust before he aimed that same pseudo-fiery limb as the girl began her exit through the window. Maybe he couldn't catch her in the dark of night. And he sure couldn't now with the patrons in this frenzy.

But he sure as hell was leaving his mark on her. A not-so-fond injury of their time together for her to remember him by.

The stained-glass appearance of the magics that made up the fire coalesced towards the point of his fingers as he aimed with his right hand at her, pointing with two fingers straight at her back as she leapt.

He let it loose, traveling at speed far faster than her leap would carry her. And, if it struck, an explosion of searing heat and flame would crawl along her back and spine, sending her flying out of the window far farther than she would have liked or expected.

And more than enough to injure and scar a vampire such as herself, not to mention the more serious damage it might do to her clothing. Luther didn't expect it to be flameproof at all.

❃

Last Edit: Jun 1, 2022 23:45:45 GMT by Paperbag Fill

Dusty
Member

To see a Keeper is not an easy thing, especially one who does not wish to be seen.

Posts: 211

Everybody knows... Jun 11, 2022 1:00:46 GMT

Post by Dusty on Jun 11, 2022 1:00:46 GMT

"“Oh. Thats not-”"

Evie would blink, it was too fast to finish her remark. On pure instinct, she whipped around and flung her wounded arm as smoke filled the air. The resounding crash could be heard as she was thrown out the window with glass shattering as she tumbled to the ground. Smoking, charred sleeve. A hit, but how did she not completely catch on fire? Her twitching body would sit outside as the situation inside was getting worse.

Someone had smashed a lantern onto the ground, another into the wall. In a few moments, fire would start spreading around quickly. People pushed each other into the fire, catching on fire; they didn’t care. Even as their flesh boiled and skin burned, they were still intent on killing each other. Some of them were screaming ‘Monster! Monster! Get the guards!’ - others screaming about a lover had scorned them. Whatever they were seeing, it drove them mad with rage. Luckily for Luther he didn’t get any of the cursed Vampires blood in his eyes or mouth.

Speaking of said vampire, the girl would get back up slowly; limbs cracking and shifting as she let out a gasp. Dramatic, since she didn’t need to breathe. She would look at her mangled arm, before just cracking and shifting it back into to place - a pool of blood suddenly dropping around her feet.

A barrier made from blood. Her blood, specifically. It didn’t save her arm, not fully; but an arm was easy to heal. Wounds around her back or god forbid her chest?

That would have been life threatening.

"“- Fun. T’was not fun at all. But! You have a party to deal with, toodles!”"

She would wiggle her fingers (of her unburnt hand) and blew a kiss, before just walking away from the window. Then in a blinding dash, she would start running; cackling all the way into the night, yelling!

"“Evie The Maiden, she was so droll! Evie The Mad, now she seeds your woes!”

To say she was deranged, was a very major underestimate of her behaviour. The girl had nothing to lose, a head filled with ideas - and none of them pretty.

Subject 16

The Painter

---

Agency Of Supernatural Acquisitions

Paperbag Fill
Member

Posts: 361

Everybody knows... Jun 19, 2022 23:51:42 GMT

Post by Paperbag Fill on Jun 19, 2022 23:51:42 GMT

Remonn Luther

❃

It had connected. Remonn's attack, the flaming balls of shapes and geometry, slammed into the arm of his attacker. Or her side. He couldn't quite make it out until she crashed outside the window, either landing on her feet or on her rear end. No, she was completely prone on the ground. Good, if not for the fact his keen eyes, even amongst the madness, caught the fact she had not caught ablaze.

"Fucking hell."

Inadvertently or not, this "Evie the Mad" girl had set this place ablaze, his own little slice of peace and quiet, and she had it torched. And he couldn't get a single singe mark on her? Was that blood wrapped around her arm? How did she manage to have that liquid protect her? Enough. Enough about life not being fair. Because as the roar of flames and the fighting going on behind him did not change the hairs along his body rising up. His head immediately ducked and rolled off the countertop as a crash of glass broke against wood, right where his head had nearly been a few moments ago.

Of course, one or more would eventually target him. Besides, not like he could chase the girl right now. Right now, the problem in front of him took precedence. Especially if he ever wanted to visit this watering hole again. First, he needed to get rid of all the fire and the blood on the patrons. He had plenty of liquid behind him, but not the kind for putting out fires. Muttering to himself words no one would undersand, Luther drew one symbol in the air before drawing another, whipping his hand quickly through the air as two geometric symbols appeared where he had drawn.

The bottles of drink and jugs of alcohol burst open and forward, towards the patrons of the establishment, coating them and the flames. Covering and coating himself as well as it all burst behind and he took to covering his head and hitting the ground. He stayed down before glancing over the counter. Patrons were still beating the shit out of each other, but at least the threat of fire was no more. Transmuting all that liquid into water had taken it out out of him as well as rashly controlling it all to simply assail forward towards all the patrons. He doubted water washing the blood off of them would do the trick of removing whatever was bewitching them, but there was little time. He pulled out a small bit of wire and a small rope, twirling the two together before speaking once more. Hopefully, everyone was disorientated enough or wiping water away from their faces for them to notice this.

A binding spell, but one of his own design. One that was meant for simple capture and did not require him to create any magic bindings but instead physical ones. He just needed a starting point, a material that would suffice. Good thing his coat had many pockets. What would be horrible is the amount of magic needed to raise this spell's potency to trap everyone in this room.

"Fuck me, fuck me. Fuck. Me."

People were moving, and more than looking in his direction. Making their way for him. There! All intertwined. Muttering the words, he closes his eyes as he stretched his one arm out holding the wire and string as it grew and spread towards everyone he could make out in the room, wrapping their bodies. No longer able to move. No longer able to harm each other.

And, most importantly, him. He could use a drink. Too bad everything was water now. Time to walk home. He about overstayed his welcome.

Sliding over the countertop and landing on his hands and feet before getting up heading towards the door, Remonn's eyes briefly glimpsed something on the floor. A red clothe, slightly pink and becoming more and more yellow at the edges from the water and would be more so if it got any more waterlogged. A small piece, large enough to be a slightly bigger-than-average handkerchief, of the cloak the girl had worn. It must have been removed from the rest that he had burned off as his mechanical blade had tried to cut it off himself initially.

Luther picked up with his metal hand before pushing the door open with the side of his fist, leaning against it for a moment for support.

Before just simply heading home. Better this way, after all. He had a piece of evidence he could look over without being disturbed or having it taken from him by incompetent fools. The guards, said fools, could deal with those all wrapped up inside. Any clerics, wizards, or priests they could summon or convince to their aid would deal with the curse or find a way to remove it. And, if he found out they couldn't? He would be glad to know he made it out alive due to his own quick thinking. Pat himself on the back and all that.

So, really, it was not his fucking business to be here once folk started showing up because of the cursed fire.

What an evening. What. An. Evening.

❃

Last Edit: Jun 19, 2022 23:52:19 GMT by Paperbag Fill