Archangelic

Frill :( come back

Skin Name: Trinn 1 and unbaed 2 Skinner's Username/Discord: you know me Bid: 10$ USD Trinn 1, $25 unbaed 2

Skin Name: Trinn 1 and unbaed 2 Skinner's Username/Discord: you know me Bid: 10$ USD Each

skin: Dotty bid: $5 USD discord: ᴄᴇʟᴇsᴛɪɴᴇ 🔒#0001

Discord: Celestine#2436 IGN: Archangelic Skin Name – Bid Ruskan Summer - 220 mina

Discord: Celestine#2436 IGN: Archangelic Skin Name – Bid Ruskan Summer - 150mina

@Venomous_Pup

Me entering Fenn

haha i did that

Amalya Amador sat upon the table surrounded by her rooftop garden within the city of Dragonkin, enjoying grapes from the local vineyard while amidst the sunset. Idly she brought another grape up towards her lips with manicured fingers, opposite hand stroking the headless pelt of a royal dog that rested in her lap. Hazel eyes once more peered upon the decree that rested upon her gardening stool nearby, taking in a soft breath before another piece of fruit. Raising the pelt to be eye level with her, despite missing an appendage, she spoke to it in a soft manner as if trying to comfort the dead creature. ”It won’t be too long now, he will be home soon.”

Discord: Celestine#2436 Bid: $12 Skin Number: 1

Discord: Celestine#2436 Bid: $8 Skin Number: 1

Skin Name: Green Corset Discord: Celestine#2436 Bid: $12 USD

The lore is pcool

"Just say it's very cool lore, if you do that you can be my wife I guess, just say that it's cool on the thread." - Werew0lf 2021

Upon arrival to meet the demise of her beloved there were no words to be shared, the silence only broken by panicked breaths and slow footsteps. As she approached the base of his statue her hands smoothed outward, taking his own for but a moment. Unlike the usual roughness and history to his hands, they were soft-polished.. and so cold. Watery eyes flicked to view his expected glare or strict expression, only to find a certain peace about him. She had never seen him so peaceful before, not even when relaxing in the hot sun, or when they would go on walks through the Haense countryside, or when he taught her to use such gift he gave her. It was this peace what haunted his Widow so, the nail in the coffin that really struck that he had passed and he would not be coming back to her. She had waited nearly two decades for him before in his return - and that alone felt like forever. Nothing would prepare her for this. "You were supposed to be Immortal!" The woman screeched as she stepped away from the statue, her pain spilling from her cheeks as she stood before him, fists clenching as she continued her ire against him. "You were supposed to be the strongest, the one no one could end.. I was supposed to not have to worry about you!" Whimpering the woman paced as she smoothed her curled locks back to try and get some sort of comfort in the heavy air, her ire then turning to begging- pleading, as if there was some way he could return to her. "We were supposed to get married, Oliver. You promised you would ask me properly, you promised. You have to I waited so long for you to do so. Please just come back and say it I don't care if you don't have a ring-.." His Widow couldn't stop her words before she eventually approached him once more, arms curling around his ankles. Her cheek pressed to the cold stone below, clinging onto him as she began to properly cry. It was full of agony, this cry. It sounded inhumane, torturous.. then again this was torture. The man that had freed her from her metaphorical chains now remained chained to this plane as but a cold spectacle from the vigorous flame he was before. The markings he put upon her burned in the pit of her stomach, one of the only permanent things he had left her in this world. Amalya Helane eventually wandered to her shared tower with the Inquisitor Eternal, her steps slow and her expression empty. No one could really say they saw her much after that. It was mentioned they could hear the sobbing from the widow, perhaps even sounding like she spoke to herself. Perhaps she was imprisoning herself as well, the only way she knew how.

Amalya Amador grinned to herself, cheeks reddened from intoxication. She truly didn't have friends and spent her eve getting drunk from spiced wine within the kitchen of her tower. Twirling her glass in hand she let the brew spill to the flooring, her laugh echoing through the tower as she called to no one in particular. "My husband organizes terrorist attacks, DEMOLISHES floating cities... what does YOURS do!?"