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Fanglike

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About Fanglike

  • Birthday March 10

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    Fanglike

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  • Gender
    Female

Character Profile

  • Character Name
    dahlya krüger

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  1. In the verglas lands, the howling blizzards stirred.
  2. At a little wooden desk mantled in bouquets of pink & peach did the young elf sit, with pen grasped in nervous fervor ... on this day, she took her own life into hand. As sent on the Fourth of Owyn’s Flame in the 1864th year of Our Lord; To be delivered to the Aster Palace; To Her Imperial Majesty and her Court, @Eryane @tilly @Spicii My father tells me that various positions within the palace have yet to find recipients. Among these, the position of Court Musician to Her Imperial Majesty is noted to be vacant. I am very interested in this position, and eager to act in it to the peak of my abilities. Since my youth I have devoted my time to several arts including riding, oil painting, social dance, and playing and composing music, as instructed by former Court Musician and aesthetician Brandt Krüger. The discipline and knowledge I have acquired in these skills has surely trained me for an opportunity like this one; for this position, I am pleased to say that I am adept in the techniques of the piano, cello, violin, and viola, and I next intend to conquer the harp. I am thrilled to see this opportunity present, as it has always been in Oren, and above all else, Krüger tradition to rise above and beyond the call of duty in the Empire and GOD’s holy name. Signed, Dahlya Evelina Krüger Lady of House Halcourt
  3. how am i supposed to facilitate french goth cowboy rp in this economy

    1. monkeypoacher

      monkeypoacher

      i mean leather is the #1 valuable commodity on lord of the craft you could pull it off

  4. what if i created a cowboy settlement.... haha jk.... unless?

  5. IGN: Fanglike Discord: fang#0644 Likes: art, skins, rp items, yada yada Dislikes: god i dont know lol Are you willing to spend USD on a gift or In-Game only?: in-game or make it myself (photoshop graphics, a carrd, a playlist, etc)
  6. Underfoot a compilation of ribboned clothes and ribboned skin lays steaming in the snow, blood coagulating under the fallen Archigilant's fingernails. She can taste the conflict between every beat of the 'fenn's heart and the undulating pulse of red spilling down her chin. Determination at odds with ruin; life opposite death. A smear of bloodline crimson is left in a hand-shaped print 'pon the missive pinned to Birth. Jagged teeth, slick with feed, part to address another: "Their hunt has been muzzled for now, but frightened dogs rarely lose their hunger for flesh finer than their own. When the time comes — may they take solace in facing defeat at the hands of Wyrvun's betters."
  7. Do you know what it feels like to cleave a loyal man's head from his body? Sister never really manages to explain the complexity of the spine. The sturdiness of each vertebrae. Nevermind the anguished silence from those unfortunate onlookers. The former Archvigilant expires a glacial breath, gaze glancing 'pon the missive under the absent flame of an unlit candle. "'Prince in the North' weighs differently when the throne is propped up in blood, doesn't it?"
  8. oliviaaaahr is being cancelled

  9. "Tuvyic rex est," echoes the fledgling Barrow, who drapes a blanket over the slumbering form of her father. Though he departed before she could say — watching him fearlessly command a presence 'pon that stage is not something she'll soon forget.
  10. Some words are untranslatable - not in that there is no way to redefine them, but sometimes they simply lose meaning. Sometimes they gain meaning. The same could be said of these two who sit across from one another, both bodies twisted into something new and different, parts of their old selves lost in the translation. "If I tell them of my suffering, will they sympathize?" A low, throaty chuckle from the dusk-eyed elfess. Across the table, her confidante drawls amusedly, "Perhaps they will tell stories of your pain and they will feel sorry for you." Then they laugh, together, in that hive of unbridled hedonism, for what bewitching predators need to leave a space for thought of the scared bleating of sheep and sycophants? And yet - ... a bitterness rises, unease climbing the length of her throat.
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