Mister_Gavin

I'm scared of talking to women.

Father Alexios, on far away Lemon Hill felt a strange sensation as he bent his neck over the Altar, studying the Holy Scrolls. The Akritian looked heavenwards for a moment as a storm pattered on the nearby stained glass and shards of lightning flashed in the gloomy dark outside. He furrowed his brows for a moment and wondered briefly about the golem he had met and their brief conversation in Flexio. "Hm. Justinian Belisarius, what an old, old name." he said simply, before he put his copy of the Scrolls away and retrieved a book on Flexio and cracked it open. 'I had better practice, I never know when I might see it again next.' he thought, as he studied, utterly oblivious to unfolding events.

Alexios put away his prayer book and picked up his sword. "Kyrie eleison."

Being bombarded with Thanos cock and Thanos truck a few years back as soon as I joined on of their discords. Community back then was not my cup of tea for obvious reasons and I've stayed away since. It's changed since then obviously, but I'm just not interested.

Without a word, the Green Clad Grillmeister of Acre stole into the keep in the middle of night. No one questioned his presence or his entrance, for he was of them and not a stranger to the castle. Gawain was last spotted sprinting across the bridge over the lake at midnight, a gunny sack clanging as he stole off with several precious relics from the sack of Vienne and several kitchen utensils! He wept during his triumphal thievery, however, for what once was, was no longer, and could never be again. All that was left of his grand time in Acre was dust and echoes.

Gawain looked up at the evening sky as he attended to his duties, but he felt time slow as he stared up at the moon. He felt the cool night air and saw the soft glow from the moon above, he even saw the steak that he had flipped descending back to the air as if in slow motion. Something was not right. Later on he would learn that his beloved Baron had perished and he would cry like a babe, for there were so many more steaks he would have liked to share with the older man.

Stopped doing my college work specifically to upvote this post. Ban the British. It's what Lizzie would have wanted.

Inanimate objects terrify me. This is not a joke, that tree can, will, and has kicked my ass. I live in fear of light colored woods both IRL and in Minecraft. I hate Birch. It's course, rough, and gets everywhere. Not like spruce. It's smooth.

Gawain sighs as he puts down his spatula and picks up his Longsword. "I guess the next war is never as far away as we hope..." He half grumbled, half mused as he made ready for a potential conflict.

no u

This post is cringe.

As a chronic sufferer of Loss of Thrust Control, I would appreciate increased awareness for my condition.

Gawain of Acre read the missive and recoiled, immediately tossing the paper into his grill - the flames turning the parchment to ash! "My GOD! The Holy Church of the Canon reduced to lotteries in these faithless times! Oh how I miss attending sermons!" The peasant frowned and signed the Lorraine, praying over the future of the Church and for his steaks to be perfectly medium rare.

Gawain of Acre, signs the Lorraine as he reads the missive, "My GOD! To think such a thing could occur here and go unanswered by the militia!"

boo womp