Search Results for 'drag'

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  • #3098
    Jib
    Participant

      “Aaahahah…” Linda Paul ended her laugh abrutptly and looked fearsomely at the three newly dubbed Musqueerteers. “You thought the competition was over, girls ? It had only just begun.”

      The girls swallowed in unison, all pouting disappeared from their young drag faces.

      “Sadie Merrie will guide you through the Time Sewer Machine, and your next challenge will be to arrive clean and shiny at your destination. A broken nail… A lost eyelash”
      The crowd of defeated queens and the other clients gaped as Linda Paul’s kept silent longer than necessary.
      “And you’ll be out. Ahahah. Everybody here will watch you and follow your every moves for this mission. So remain dignified, you represent all the Queens of our time”

      :fleuron:

      When Linda Paul had talked about the Time Sewer Machine, Maurana had silently hoped it was a typo for Time Sewing Machine. But her hope faded away like a crying widow make-up when she saw where Sadie Merry had led them.
      They sadly left the buzz and cheer ups to go through a small door in the backstage of the club. It opened in a dark courtyard. It was already night outside, and a breeze made the young Queens shiver. No light. There was a black hole in the middle of the yard and they could smell what was inside before they could see it.
      “Phew”, said Consuela, “It’s worse than inside Maurice’s pants”. It didn’t help relax nor clear the atmosphere.

      They heard the noise of an engine starting and suddenly the lights went on. Maurana looked behind her back and saw Sadie Merry near an electricity board with blinking lights. Their was something shiny about her whole being. It looked like a protective extensible gloss suit fitting her sobre attire and her beehive wig perfectly. It didn’t seem to touch the clothes or the humongous wig, and yet it was moving graciously around.

      Terry looked at the sewer. The content had begun to turn around and was soon turning fast enough to create a kind of vortex of garbage. “Where are our suits ..?” asked Terry with a hopeful smile, looking around. The older Queen’s gaze killed this hope in a squish.

      “You have to shout your team slogan, girls”, Sadie said flatly.
      “A slogan ?” asked the Musqueerteers. They looked at each others, and Consuela giggled.
      “Wigs for all”, she tentatively offered.

      Sadie Merry rolled her eyes and pushed them in the sewer which was now glowing purple. She could hear the crowd inside the club chanting “Wigs for all! Wigs for all!” She jumped in the trashole, wishing she hadn’t eaten barbecue pork chops before coming.

      #3097

      The verdict was definitive. The competition had been fierce and now only the best of the best would go to the final and mysterious mission.

      Terry Bubble couldn’t believe her ears and fanned her glistening face with her powdered hands batting her eyelashes to contain the swelling tears when she heard Linda Paul say in her snarkily uppity voice : “Uhuh, that dress, oh that dress sweetie, that was an offense to good sense, but you did lipsynch to perfection with this pouty mouth of yours… Terry Bee, you stay with me.”
      Then, turning to the other competitor, the gorgeous Tina Turnover look-alike in her glittery purple dress, a.k.a. Shantay Mûre. “Shantay, you go away.”

      Terry bowed to the jury, firstly Linda Paul herself, of course, then the sultry sulky Sadie Merrie, and finally took an extra second for Lady Gugu, who she was sure tipped the balance in her favor. She never was a big fan of the ageing star, well-known for her antics and poultry dresses, but there was no denying she earned being the sensation she was all over China —or that he was, there were lingering suspicions about this, which of course didn’t matter in the drag race.
      It had to be thanks to her ; maybe she was fond of sardines. Otherwise, how could self-doubt-ridden Terry Bubbly, like her friends barely over their teens, could hope to compete with the other seasoned divas, like Pseu Flay with her lion-mane wig à la Cher, who were nonetheless one by one eliminated by a strange turn of events.

      :fleuron:

      The selection had gone flawlessly. Linda Paul was boucing with effervescence and delight.
      “Dearies, dearies, you have been competing fearlessly against one another, now is time to be a team. Or find a time in which to be…”

      The three queens looked stymied. They were not used to share the limelight and shine in pairs, much less in a trio.
      “Terry, Consuela, Maurana, you will be our three Muskqueerteers, fearlessly donning on wigs and shiny attires on a mission to retrieve a precious item for me.”

      The screen shined brightly to reveal a glittery pyramid, announced by the anchor’s male voice “The Queen’s Ferrets au Rochet!”

      “But of course, I cannot send you back without a chaperon. Fear not, fate has decided for us, that among the jury, it will be…”

      Terry hoped for Lady Gugu, she already looked like Elton Jaune in a wig, and would do great with Louis XIII, or Richeliou for that matter.

      “… Sadie Merrie!”

      “Oh good grief…” Terry’s shiny Elton Jaune in her thoughts suddenly was transphormed (as if they all had been into a huge deFørmiñG mirror) into that of Milady of Merry.

      #3092
      Jib
      Participant

        The three drags had rented a limo to go to Linda Pol’s bar. It was located in the Court Julien and the narrow streets weren’t fit for a limo, but they didn’t care. They had to be noticed and a limo seemed the right choice at the time. Of course, they booked it together because they were young and had not enough money for their own personal limo.
        “We should have taken the white one, black is so common and we look like a hearse”, said Consuela, pouting outrageously with her porn red lipstick.
        “The rooftop is not high enough for my hair”, whined Maurana.
        “No, mum, I’m staying at Robert’s house tonight, we are going to work on calculus for the exam next week”, was saying Terry to her… his phone with his normal voice.

        #3079
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          “Who’s this new person appearing disguised in a pseudonym?”
          Trove wasn’t the least bit surprised at how well the daily random quote went with the days new beginnings;
          “They had forgotten rule number one. Nothing is hidden from you. Granted, a pseudonym is a mask, but the choice of the mask is revealing enough of a clue.
          Then, you had to ask the questions in the right order. “Who is it?” should be the last of them all.”
          No wonder a bowler hat appeared on her wall today.
          ““Whatever you proclaim as your identity here in the material realm is also your drag. You are not your religion. You are not your skin color. You are not your gender, your politics, your career, or your marital status. You are none of the superficial things that this world deems important. The real you is the energy force that created the entire universe!”

          #3078
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            In light of the new story thread, I suggest a new one: “Get your Drag Team queer” :D

            #3077
            Jib
            Participant

              “I’m stunning tonight, bitches! All eyes will be on me gorgeous silhouette, I bet you my fucking dick! No doubt I will be the chosen one.”

              “Stop dreaming Maurana Banana, you silly bitch. They’ll just be wondering what’s that motherfucker meringue wig doing on that fat lipped purple head of yours.
              And then they’ll see my outstanding new green lime dress and they’ll choose me ! That’s my turn tonight, bitch!”

              “Of course, bitch! They’ll think you’re a sardine and they’ll pick you for the barbecue. Behold, Terry Bubble, Queen of Sardinia!”, said Consuela Winny, the bearded lady in drags.

              The green queen gaped speechless, and for a moment the image of a giant sardine popped into Maurana’s mind. She burst into laughter, quickly followed by Winny. It was an exaggerated laugh which bore young male tones. The three friends were participating into the most famous annual competition in Marseille. Linda Pol’s Drag Race would determine the best drags to be part of the Screaming Queens.

              #3075
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                X Trim (the new alias of Ed Steam) was pleased to see that as usual, things happened to converge his way especially when he went on to clean his inner old rattled cages caked in bird’s poop — a rather inelegant metaphor for going with the flow.

                He’d been pondering going to a new line of business for awhile, had even gone so far as to discuss the matter of a new yearly launchpad, with the core team of old days and a brand new tagline —or drag-line, to be accurate.
                All of that because of a rather quaint discovery of time traveling device, and a funny twist.
                He had a brief hesitation for the reignited spark left in the draft of wind that would follow, but had figured for some time now, that all things would be alright in the end, and if it were not the case, then it wasn’t the end.

                #3017
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  meanwhile in South Africa, an alphabet slaughtering surge made landfall, scattering the inhabitants, celebrities and everyday heroes alike. Some suspected the elusive Wordblade

                  “Alliteration ascends the assonance of abseiling abstract aspects of anterior antiquities from ancient altars,
                  Bouldering down blocks of brooks that break the boring & bland borders of bondage,
                  And blinking through bleak and black boxes of brisk bravery.
                  Creeping into crops of crooked crocks with crotches of cockroaches cramming into cans of calamity, the crisp cat crackles the calling.
                  Dreaming of damning devils and demons dancing in droplets of dreary darkness drags the drunken diligence from the draught’s damnation,
                  Even the everlasting ethereal elves ebbed and eased into the effervescent eloquent estate of eternal elitism.

                  For the feeble and fumbling fatuous frontiers, the folly frolicked and fornicated with the familiar friend from foes’ fervent fevers;
                  Greater than gradient grand gestures of gestaltic granite grasses,
                  The gruesome grizzle grabbed the gore by the gripped grunting.
                  Higher than homelands of hands in horizons,
                  Heavens and Hells or Hades hazily hear the honing of the horses and horns-
                  In internal infernos of inflicting infringes of institutional insurrections Interrogations instigated imminent innate innovations.
                  Jacknives of jaundiced and jilted jokers jabbed at the jumping jingles of the jesting jackals that jet over jerseys of jeering,
                  For the Killer Krakens kelp the kites from kids who keep kaleidoscopes of kind and keen keepers.

                  Longer than languid lads that laze in lost latitudes the lieutenant lounged behind lines of lingering losses-
                  Maids mellowed around mazes of men and manners of mad moments and made for mates on mattresses on mothered matrimony.
                  Noisy & never-ending neckties on nests of nicked numbers never nominated the nurses that nosed the nuns for nuns’ nihilism
                  Beyond the Oligarchs of overt operations of obligating omnipotence ostracizing the omniscience & omitting its ownership to the omnipresent order.
                  Pilgrims to pentagons by people from poached & palpitated places of placards of propaganda pondered their positions in this power polarity
                  When quivering quills of quavering queens quelled the quarterly quests of the quaint quarrels.

                  Because roving rivers of raging ravines and raving reviews raced to the rest of the ripped rampant ravages and revelled at the rambling randomness
                  Structured subsiding and subsidized societies should string the strongholds of the supreme sultans of seeded senses.
                  Taking the trusty treaty the trussed toppled truants took the trickling ticking of time to the tables of trampled trees of timber,
                  For under the ubiquitous umbilical umbrellas of ultra-sounds from upper-level ulcers underground underworlds underestimated the union.

                  Vivid visions of voracious vampires of vexing vacuum vortexes vilified the vindicated vindictives from the violent vapid vanity
                  While wild & wily whiskers of whispered whisky whisked the wailing widows
                  From the wells of wanting when the wanton warriors walked on waters.
                  Yards of years of yearning the yesterday’s yonder yarns of yellow yolk yawned Into the youth’s yoked yams
                  For zigzags of zapped zebras to zip the zest in zealous zones.”

                  #3000

                  “How do you feel now?”
                  “Not so bad, considering I just survived a slug indigestion…”
                  Ernie and Jett were giving sad glances at their nearly empty glasses of Bourgogne red wine. Ernie’s plate of snails au beurre persillé was barely touched, and Jett who was eyeing at it for a while now as he was sucking on his empty shells decided now was a good time to grab it and switch it with his own empty one while continuing to rant loudly in the French restaurant with his mouth full.
                  “You see, that’s why I don’t like those bloody Chinese greasy spoons, especially after a surge. You never know what you’re goin’ to get. Me in’ haffin’ none of it sea bloody bottom-feeders cucumber…”

                  Ernie was still looking a bit pale, except for the occasional patches of purple hematomata, that the doctor mentioned would disappear once the body manages to expel the impossible to digest slug.
                  “Should have had that blessed surgery, would have been faster” he moaned.
                  “Are you kiddin’? Look, don’t want to be gross or anythin’ but last time I had things expelled too fast, it wasn’t a pretty sight!”
                  “Oh stop it again with your oily shit fish, that’s a blessin’ disgusting memory I would merrily forget!”.
                  “L’addition!” Ernie had had enough of Jett’s snail munching. It was time to get to their next assignment. Even if the occupational medicine doctor had tried to deter him resuming work too quickly, it was better that than dragging around an empty house in flip-flops and pajamas.
                  The good thing was that the Disaster Damage Team was never short of assignments. Most of the time they were working in locksteps with the Surge Team, clearing the aftershocks, so they didn’t have to fear about boredom.

                  #2997

                  After a few months travelling from Spain to France in their quest for the dragons, with already two visa applications for China rejected, endless unkind mocking laughs or condescending looks from strangers, and having had to pawn temporarily the sabulmantium to buy Vincentius a shirt, Arona and her motley family were thinking it was time for a turn of fate.

                  It didn’t take them too long hopefully.
                  Of course, the sabulmantium was recovered as soon as they had realized it was actually more lucrative in this dimension to have Vincentius take off his shirt in shady bars at night for a few meals and lodging, and some little extras. Mandrake had been kind to provide ample squeaking mice supplements, which Arona had politely declined, for which Mandrake faked each time the saddest of disappointments. All in all, so far their life on the roads had been easier than she would have thought.
                  Of course, they’d lost Sanso a few times as he couldn’t stay at one place for too long, and keeping track of his movements was near impossible. So they relied on trust that he would always find his way, which surprisingly enough, he did every single time.

                  He had been the one to provide them with the way to the island actually. One day, after weeks without news, he’d reappeared, hammering at the door of their little room at the top of their 9 storey hotel in Paris, near the St Honoré Market Place. He was wearing the quaintest bright violet velvet surplice, and was carrying a bottle of glowing green liquor.

                  To settle in a lovely island of the Ocean they called Pacific… It didn’t take too much convincing: Paris was starting to get boring, and far too cold. Arona missed the moist glowing warmth of Leormn’s cave, that was so good for her skin. She didn’t miss the riddles though.

                  The entry point of the tunnel was inside the catacombs, and they’d almost got lost a few times, she could have sworn, although Sanso was ever confident they were on track, even when a few dead-ends were staring at him in the face with toothless skulls grins. But after a few hours, the tunnel actually broadened, and glowed a lovely shade of orange.

                  It was funny, traveling through the Earth’s crust, made her almost feel at home. If all the dragons of this realm had left, and were hidden somewhere, she was certain it had to be to such a place. It gave her hopes again to meet one in this strange land which had forgotten magic.

                  #2988
                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    Ed Steam’s Rally Update:

                    Where is your Surge Team now?

                    • 1. Cornella • last seen in Long Poon, with computer troubles (#2942)
                    • 2. Pearl • last seen with Mari Fe considering freezing their butts on a flying carpet in a shop at Baku (#2939)
                    • 3. Mari Fe • last seen with Pearl (#2939)
                    • 4. Skye • last seen missing in action, probably lost in London’s last surge of fog (#2851)
                    • 5. Katarina • last seen with Pearl and Mari Fe (#2939)
                    • 6. Vera Pappaloosa • last seen with Lulla set to meet in Pohnpei, in the middle of the Pacific to deal with a yet undefined surge (#2863)
                    • 7. Kiki Razwa • last seen chatting with Björk about an upcoming transportation surge (#2941)
                    • 8. Björk • last seen on her way to deal with a transportation surge somewhere in Europe (#2941)
                    • 9. Janet Mendyourhall • last seen heading her way back to Nevada after containing a zombilic surge in Spain (#2922)
                    • 10. Lulla Spinosa • last seen meeting with Vera (#2863)
                    • 11. Madam Li • last seen heading back to Harbin, in Shanghai’s metro, after a snow surge successfully contained (#2940)
                    • 12. Anita Charmpatti • in Mumbai (no comment yet)
                    • 13. Elza • last seen in Moscow managing a taser surge (#2937)

                    Other recurring characters in the same timeline:

                    • Ed Steam • last seen fomenting a sinister plot in his secret hideout after faking his own demise and looting the Surge HQ artefacts warehouse (#2946)
                    • Aqua Luna • last seen at an unknown location, in a mysterious ship after a probable alien abduction in Long Poon (#2945)
                    • Belle (Bee) Endwhistle • last seen flushed out-of-body in the magic E-map, but didn’t yet reappear unlike Pearl and Mari Fe (#2902)

                    Recurring other-dimensional characters in the same timeline:

                    Other characters in the future timeline:

                    • Captain YangLang • last seen at the management of the old Long Poon Surge abandoned facility, recovering Ed Steam’s lost time capsule #23 (#2864)
                    #2986
                    Jib
                    Participant

                      Aqua Luna had difficulties understanding what the voice was telling her. The words made perfect sense, separately. They were like bubbles floating around her, she could almost see them. Each had a different hue and some where even shining a bit.
                      “What am I experiencing ?” she asked.
                      At least it was her thoughts, but she wasn’t sure the voice would understand as each bubble seemed to follow its separate route once out of her mouth.
                      When more bubbles appeared in the room, it seemed they were coming from all around her, and not from a specific location. She wondered if she was in some kind of whale ship, in its stomach.
                      When more bubbles came, she began to feel a bit irritated. She smashed one with her left hand and got startled by the booming “SHAKE”. She retreated on the spongy stomach which was emitting bubbles now. She tried to shoo them away and their explosion was more like a squishy sound.
                      A bigger bubble was coming toward her. It was with shades of pink and blue, very vibrant. She put her hands on her ears before it blew out, but the sound seemed to come from her skin now.

                      HAHAHAHA

                      When more bubbles came to her, the words she heard were the following

                      quickly full days told moscow
                      dragon sounds face earth itself
                      pin often middle herself under light
                      katarina warm asked further turned

                      It made no sense at all, but she was beginning to find it fun.

                      #2957

                      The aftershock of the surge at the Three Kings’ Parade started to hit full blast at the portals initial location, thus effectively linking old mummies energy to the bodies there that were hit by Mari Fe, and for he most part still lying unconscious.
                      The combination of energies started to make them arise and walk like mindless zombies, intoning old guttural sounds in cadence in a language that sounded like Italian poetry.
                      There you had the Balthazar, Rogelio, Dru and alter-Ed who all woke up at once, and even Sanso who had been hit (while impersonating a Portal Worker) started to feel oddly strange.

                      Noticing the atypical occurrence, Arona, whom Janet seemed to have had taken a sudden liking to (blame it on her Yankee side), started to look at her brood and rally them for a safe and prompt exit.
                      “What is it Arona dearie?” Janet didn’t seem worried. She was a Surge Team member after all, and a zombilic epidemic (zombies energy coming from wormholes) wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
                      “I fear that although your presence is most delightful, we shall be on our way.” Arona’s old sabulmantium had shown persistent and remarkable hints of dragon energy in this dimension that, although a bit different and looking in her mind’s eye like red flying snakes bearing impossibly long mustache, resonated quite well —not to mention she was eager to part with such bizarre company.
                      “Alrighty, let’s keep in touch dearie,” Janet added, covering their escape, not without winking at Sanso as he was the last one to leave through the map portal, leaving her to look for her missing flushed friends, Mari Fe and Pearl.
                      Unbeknownst to everyone, the picture-taking lady had camouflaged herself to look like a red sofa nearby the hot pink leather chaise lounge in the corner of the room, and was documenting silently the promising epic battle of Janet and Riff Raff against the zombies.
                      And for sure, Janet was still ready to make good use of the pocket-sized forklift to move away all cumbersome bodies,… as there was bound to be casualties.

                      #2902
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        Madam Li was gorgeous in her red silk chinese dress. She might be the eldest of the Team, but she appeared to be one of the youngest. She was proud of her Chinese ancestry. The two golden dragons on her dress emphasized her silhouette and her hair artistically arranged like an empress.

                        She had just received the invitation to the Tartessos’ 3 King’s parade. Eventhough she didn’t much like travelling, it might be an occasion to go somewhere warmer. It was snowing again in Shanghai and she had been sent there to investigate this strange occurance in that part of the country. Not that it was really strange to her, she had been raised in Harbin, and its ice festival. But having cars half burried in snow in Shanghai was not a normal sight.

                        At the moment, she was staying at an over-heated serviced apartment near the Pearl Tower of Shanghai. One of the perks of being part of the Team. Ed had always offered them a good salary and an apartment provided with the job, and they could use the red fleet whenever the wanted.

                        When she had tried to open the window, and didn’t succeeded, the night sight from her window gave her chills. Reminding her that she so loved this city. All the lights, blinking in and out, creating organized or random patterns at every corner. The city had changed so much these last years.

                        Madam Li put the invitation on the table, she would think of it later and checked with the red fleet to book a flight as soon as she had found out about all that snow in Shanghai.

                        #2888
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Aqua Luna was was mopping the floor of the Surge Team’s HQ. She was not strictly speaking a member of the Team, and the only sponge insigna she had was her mop and the few sponges she used to clean the keyboards and the screens of “the deck” as they called their room full of computers and screens and blinking red and blue lights.

                          She’s been here for ages, since Lord Ed Steam had founded the organisation actually. People didn’t usually pay attention to her and she could go everywhere. Almost. There was a room where she couldn’t go and she didn’t know what was in there. Only the higher ranked members could penetrate this secret room. She tried several times to cast a glance just before they closed the door, but there always was some bloody smoke coming out of the room.

                          Her mama had told her many times, ‘Aqua Luna, there is no smoke without fire’. There must be a huge fire inside that room for it’s always smokey.

                          The door opened again, but she was too far and she only could see the fumes again. ‘Could that be a dragon ?’, she thought. But what use could the surge team have of a dragon. Aqua Luna knew for sure that dragons were real. Her Mama had told her so when she was a kid, and she trusted her Mama, even when she was shouting at her. ‘It’s for your own good Aqua Luna”.

                          This time it was that young woman, Cornella who went out. She seemed concerned and she was talking in her unicomp.

                          #2869

                          In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Notwithstanding the child who was asking questions to his nanny just behind them, the flight to Taipei has been rather quiet. It was a three hours flight, quite short compared to the twelve hours ones Yann had been doing lately between Paris and Shanghai. Fortunately, the seats of the Dragoneer company were big enough, which was another strange element of these Chinese planes. Instead, the French Airways’ ones had narrow seats with so little room for one’s legs. He slept for most of the trip. Awoken merely when the flight attendant brought the food. Some rice dish again.

                            As soon as they landed, they were welcomed by a troup of taichi dancers, resembling Tahitian dancers with their loincloth. It was hot. The weather of course, not the taichi dancers who seemed unaffected by the temperature. Their slow movements were relaxing and a bit hypnotic. It was a contrast with the rapid dance of Tahiti Yann remembered from their last trip.

                            A woman in a red coat and sunglasses was walking behind them, looking around suspiciously.

                            #2159

                            In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              “Sorry, for the tardiness dear” the dragon coughed in a midget voice. Lowering its voice, he added “I’ve been busy honing my herding sheep skills.”

                              “Well,” Flinella said “at least you’ve came. I was starting to think you were crushed under piles of dirt or something. Things have been rocky of late on this island…”
                              She looked inquisitively at the familiar snout “and I suppose you’ve smoked those poor sheep, haven’t you? The S’elves won’t be pleased.”

                              The dragon, actually a rather small dragon by all standards (the bane of his life was to be constantly mistaken for a karma chameleon), took the last remark in without retorting. That was ominous enough for Flinella who wasn’t accustomed to such absence of quick wit from his part.
                              The S’elves were a dissident faction of the Tw’elves. More ancient, some had said… though not as ancient as the Sh’elves —those went extinct or ascended a long while ago. Flinella was posted on the island to report on the shift progress and if possible, wreck havoc on any attempt at continent inuity.

                              “So far, so good…” she smiled pleased at her progress.

                              #2750

                              In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Eliza took the lead with a whopping 111 points for the word fuckwit, and grinned impishly at Flinella. “Beat that!” she said. “I’m going for a swim”.

                                “Watch out for the dragon”

                                “Oh bugger off”

                                And then in unison, “what the fuck? What was that noise?”

                                “The horns of Gabriel” suggested the nun.

                                Flinella and Eliza spun round. “Where did she come from?” they whispered. “I thought we were alone on this island.” “Where’s the sound coming from, anyway?”

                                “It’s coming from Detroit” claimed the man in the plaid trousers. “The objective insertion of the shift just started.”

                                The two women clutched each others arms as they spun round again. “Where did he come from?”

                                “And where did he get those trousers!”

                                #2748

                                In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  Flinella was delighted to discover “tatting” scored her 57 points in Wordplay, enough to put her 22 points in the lead. She stretched contentedly, and wondered how much longer the dragon would be. Not that she was unhappy on the island; it was surely a beautiful island and she considered herself blessed, especially when she considered the alternatives.

                                  #2757

                                  In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves

                                  ÉricÉric
                                  Keymaster

                                    The holes and cracks had awoken ancient creatures from the fabled hollow worlds of myths…
                                    Dragons 🐛, sand worms, giant spiders, :spider: T-rexes and some said even mummies… :mummy: 😱
                                    In fact, the cruise ship’s demise in Adryattic was mostly due to a kraken-on-crack attack.

                                  Viewing 20 results - 181 through 200 (of 372 total)