sonder
welcome to the fire

Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:14 PM - Word count:
#1


CAIRO TIAMAT
Female(she/her) // Captain in Imperial Army
so welcome to the fire.
cartography of 1707

winter yr1 / /
  1. thick as wine, not as sweet - Castle Stuart Xandria
    • description of what happens in the thread because YAY.
  2. when it rains -- well, you know - Eleanor Square Nassar
    • description of what happens in the thread because YAY.
  3. the violence causes silence - Sussex Sif
    • Cairo runs into Sif in the market
  4. dragons - Glass Beach Caspian
    • description of what happens in the thread because YAY.
  5. moira thread - location Moira
    • description of what happens in the thread because YAY.
  6. ramses thread - location Ramses
    • description of what happens in the thread because YAY.





winter yr 1 / /
stuff stuff

Spring Y1
thread name;
stuff stuff
thread name;
stuff stuff
thread name;
stuff stuff
thread name;
stuff stuff
thread name;
stuff stuff
archived threads
year 1
none yet, but soon this chapter will be filled.
code by rae

- Xandria Thread
- NassarThread
- Moira thread ( frenemies? trained together generally, cairo bitter that she gained ranks faster -- thinks it's stupid she gave it up)
- Caspian thread
- Ramses thread - know each other through training\
- Sif thread - she trained under Kohl, maybe cairo knows of her because of tgat?

Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:16 PM - Word count:
#2
Ignore the Cairo spam 8D

 
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”  


 STOCK ➤lakela CODE+ART ➤ twisty  
 



<center><table background="http://orig02.deviantart.net/cf5f/f/2017/016/8/3/cairotable_by_amphispiza-davpzkc.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:480px;padding-bottom:470px;padding-top:45px;padding-left:230px;padding-right:5px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:215px; height:230px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(70,34,65,.4); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#c5c0bd;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#feffff;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font> 


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="right">  <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">STOCK ➤<a href="http://lakela.deviantart.com/gallery/">lakela</a> CODE+ART ➤ twisty  </font> </div>  </center>






A squat grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a shield, the World State's motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.

The enormous room on the ground floor faced towards the north. Cold for all the summer beyond the panes, for all the tropical heat of the room itself, a harsh thin light glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some draped lay figure, some pallid shape of academic goose-flesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly shining porcelain of a laboratory. Wintriness responded to wintriness. The overalls of the workers were white, their hands gloved with a pale corpse-coloured rubber. The light was frozen, dead, a ghost. Only from the yellow barrels of the microscopes did it borrow a certain rich and living substance, lying along the polished tubes like butter, streak after luscious streak in long recession down the work tables.

"And this," said the Director opening the door, "is the Fertilizing Room."

Bent over their instruments, three hundred Fertilizers were plunged, as the Director of Hatcheries and Conditioning entered the room, in the scarcely breathing silence, the absent-minded, soliloquizing hum or whistle, of absorbed concentration. A troop of newly arrived students, very young, pink and callow, followed nervously, rather abjectly, at the Director's heels. Each of them carried a notebook, in which, whenever the great man spoke, he desperately scribbled. Straight from the horse's mouth. It was a rare privilege. The D. H. C. for Central London always made a point of personally conducting his new students round the various departments.

"Just to give you a general idea," he would explain to them. For of course some sort of general idea they must have, if they were to do their work intelligently–though as little of one, if they were to be good and happy members of society, as possible. For particulars, as every one knows, make for virtue and happiness; generalities are intellectually necessary evils. Not philosophers but fret-sawyers and stamp collectors compose the backbone of society.

“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."
MANIP & TABLE ➤TWISTY


<center><table background="https://orig01.deviantart.net/aa79/f/2017/066/1/7/cairo_s_angry_again_by_amphispiza-db1ig6l.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#180900; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:2px solid #180000; outline-color:black; outline-style:;width:480px;padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:630px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:5px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; ">
<div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:05px;padding-right:05px;"><font style="color:#d6d1b9;font-family:verdana;font-size: 8px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.2em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> POST HERE AND STUFF
<font style="color:#f0c912;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."  </font>
</div></td></tr>  </table><div align=right>   <font style="color:#793226;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">MANIP & TABLE ➤TWISTY </font> </div>      </center>




"It's so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.


And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like “Poo-tee-weet?”


And I have told my sons that they are not under any circumstances to take part in massacres, and that the news of massacres of enemies is not to fill them with satisfaction or glee.


I have also told them not to work for companies which make massacre machinery, and to express contempt for people who think we need machinery like that.”


and etc.


and etc.

MANIP + TABLE ➤TWISTY


<center><table background="https://orig00.deviantart.net/be64/f/2018/135/d/6/cairo_table_by_amphispiza-dannjox.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:480px;padding-bottom:25px;padding-top:660px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:90px;<tr><td height="350px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:340px; height:270px;padding-right:10px; overflow-y: auto;">
<font style="color:#5f3819;font-family:garamond; font-size: 11px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> <font size=3><i>POST</i></font> HERE <font style="color:#f0bf4a;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 14px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;"> “Poo-tee-weet?”</font>
</div></td></tr>  </table><div align=right>   <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">MANIP + TABLE ➤TWISTY </font> </div>      </center>





"It's so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.


And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like “Poo-tee-weet?”


And I have told my sons that they are not under any circumstances to take part in massacres, and that the news of massacres of enemies is not to fill them with satisfaction or glee.


I have also told them not to work for companies which make massacre machinery, and to express contempt for people who think we need machinery like that.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."
"It's so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.


And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like “Poo-tee-weet?”


And I have told my sons that they are not under any circumstances to take part in massacres, and that the news of massacres of enemies is not to fill them with satisfaction or glee.


I have also told them not to work for companies which make massacre machinery, and to express contempt for people who think we need machinery like that.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."



<center><table background="http://orig14.deviantart.net/5afc/f/2017/196/4/1/caironewtable2_zpsx9lsww48_by_amphispiza-dbgeuqa.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:480px;padding-bottom:585px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:110px;padding-right:5px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center"><img src="http://orig09.deviantart.net/3b52/f/2017/196/d/a/cairoheader2_zps8oiakkg2_by_amphispiza-dbgeuqe.png"><div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px solid green;overflow:hidden; "><div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: #371e1d; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:5px;padding-left:15px;padding-right:5px;"><font style="color:#666146;font-family:arial;font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.1em;">

POST HERE

<font style="color:#ece08f;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."  </font>

</div></td></tr>  </table></center>







 
The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever.


When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a bad condition in that particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. "The potential you'll be that you'll never see, the promises you'll only make. " Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is "so it goes". 
 
 
 LYRICS AND SHIT HERE POSSIBLE? MAYBE B A B Y  
 ART ➤ZakraArt CODE ➤TWISTY 

<center><table background="http://orig12.deviantart.net/6481/f/2017/137/1/8/cairotablezakraart_by_amphispiza-db9jrpv.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:#191819; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:500px;padding-bottom:770px;padding-top:20px;padding-left:30px;padding-right:30px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px solid green;overflow:hidden; "><div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: #2e3133; filter:alpha(opacity=40);-moz-opacity:.40;opacity:.40; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:20px;padding-left:25px;padding-right:25px;"><font style="color:#68717a;font-family:garamond; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.2em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> <font size=3><i>The</i></font> POST GOES HERE 
 
 </div><div align="right">  <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">LYRICS AND SHIT HERE POSSIBLE? MAYBE B A B Y  </font> </div></td> </tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="http://zakraart.deviantart.com/">ZakraArt</a> CODE ➤TWISTY </font> </div> </center>


Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:17 PM - Word count:
#3
 
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”  


 ART ➤Heyriel CODE ➤ twisty  
 



<center><table background="http://orig15.deviantart.net/a049/f/2017/137/a/e/cairosmallwaterfall_by_amphispiza-db9kaaz.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:650px;padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:25px;padding-left:17px;padding-right:80px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:295px; height:480px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(184,193,190,.5); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#2a2a31;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#feffff;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font> 


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="right">  <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="http://heyriel.deviantart.com/">Heyriel</a> CODE ➤ twisty  </font> </div>  </center>



By Soar! <3
POST HERE
“Cairo speaking”



By Soar! <3 <center><div style="width:460px; border:1px solid#fff; outline: 1px solid#000000; padding-top:455px;padding-bottom:15px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;background-color:#f1e7cf; background-image:url('https://orig11.deviantart.net/103d/f/2017/219/d/4/cairo_by_amphispiza-dbj8d29.png');background-position: top; background-repeat:no-repeat; line-height:150%;font-size:10px;font-face:Georgia; color:#24170c; border-radius: 0px;"><div style="border:#181917 solid 0px;width:420px;background-color:#d3ccbb;padding:5px;opacity: 0.5;line-height:6px;text-align:justify;letter-spacing:1px;"><font style="font-family:georgia;font-size:9px;color:#5a564d;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;font-variant: word-spacing:1px;small-cps;line-height:12px;opacity: 1;"> POST HERE
<span style="font-family: georgia;letter-spacing:1px;font-size:12px;color:#764b20;font-style: italic;font-variant: small-cps;font-weight: normal; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #fff;background-color:#;">“Cairo speaking”</span>
</div></font></p></center></div></div></center>


BY THE AMAZING CLAERIE


what's the point in all this screaming

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, sit metus elementum orci varius lobortis, fringilla dui nulla justo, imperdiet adipiscing placerat maecenas euismod, varius suspendisse vehicula egestas, dolor id lacinia a maecenas aliquam. Sodales aliquam tincidunt, sollicitudin amet vehicula vestibulum ut, nulla ut velit ac nec justo, facilisi integer facilisis rutrum metus eget, non urna nulla condimentum wisi lectus ultrices. Wisi venenatis sapien feugiat ut in, quam rutrum enim gravida sed wisi, sem elit lorem. Nec aliquam tempor mi vitae, vestibulum tellus nulla aliquam, ut ipsum. Erat erat. At commodo, nec pellentesque eros. In eu etiam, montes est, luctus maecenas massa elit nonummy, at velit lacus ac morbi. Augue urna occaecati lorem, placerat pede odio vitae tincidunt, et ullamcorper aenean eros tempor consequat.

Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


"She Speaks"


no one's listening anyway



<center>
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lateef' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tangerine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
<div style="background: url('http://i.imgur.com/Sq686ZG.png') no-repeat #574F3E center top; width:500px; align:center; padding-top:360px; padding-bottom:5px;border: 1px double">
<center><font style="font-family:tangerine;font-size:20px;letter-spacing:7px;color:#FFC97F;text-shadow:0px 0px 10px #E39C3B;">what's the point in all this screaming</font style></center><div style="background: #443322; opacity: .7; text-align: justify; padding:11px; color:#eeeedd; font-family: times; line-height:15px; word-spacing: 5px; width: 430px; font-size: 8pt;">

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, sit metus elementum orci varius lobortis, fringilla dui nulla justo, imperdiet adipiscing placerat maecenas euismod, varius suspendisse vehicula egestas, dolor id lacinia a maecenas aliquam. Sodales aliquam tincidunt, sollicitudin amet vehicula vestibulum ut, nulla ut velit ac nec justo, facilisi integer facilisis rutrum metus eget, non urna nulla condimentum wisi lectus ultrices. Wisi venenatis sapien feugiat ut in, quam rutrum enim gravida sed wisi, sem elit lorem. Nec aliquam tempor mi vitae, vestibulum tellus nulla aliquam, ut ipsum. Erat erat. At commodo, nec pellentesque eros. In eu etiam, montes est, luctus maecenas massa elit nonummy, at velit lacus ac morbi. Augue urna occaecati lorem, placerat pede odio vitae tincidunt, et ullamcorper aenean eros tempor consequat.

Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


<center><font style="color:#E39C3B; font-size:15px; letter-spacing:7px;font-family:lateef;"><b>"She Speaks"</b></font style> </center>

</div>
<center><font style="font-family:tangerine;font-size:20px;letter-spacing:10px;color:#FFC97F;text-shadow:0px 0px 10px #E39C3B;">no one's listening anyway</font style></center>
</div></center>






Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, sit metus elementum orci varius lobortis, fringilla dui nulla justo, imperdiet adipiscing placerat maecenas euismod, varius suspendisse vehicula egestas, dolor id lacinia a maecenas aliquam. Sodales aliquam tincidunt, sollicitudin amet vehicula vestibulum ut, nulla ut velit ac nec justo, facilisi integer facilisis rutrum metus eget, non urna nulla condimentum wisi lectus ultrices. Wisi venenatis sapien feugiat ut in, quam rutrum enim gravida sed wisi, sem elit lorem. Nec aliquam tempor mi vitae, vestibulum tellus nulla aliquam, ut ipsum. Erat erat. At commodo, nec pellentesque eros. In eu etiam, montes est, luctus maecenas massa elit nonummy, at velit lacus ac morbi. Augue urna occaecati lorem, placerat pede odio vitae tincidunt, et ullamcorper aenean eros tempor consequat.

Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


"She Speaks"



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Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


<center><font style="color:#F89737; font-size:17px; letter-spacing:7px;font-family:lateef;text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000;"><b>"She Speaks"</b></font style> </center>
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CAIRO
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, sit metus elementum orci varius lobortis, fringilla dui nulla justo, imperdiet adipiscing placerat maecenas euismod, varius suspendisse vehicula egestas, dolor id lacinia a maecenas aliquam. Sodales aliquam tincidunt, sollicitudin amet vehicula vestibulum ut, nulla ut velit ac nec justo, facilisi integer facilisis rutrum metus eget, non urna nulla condimentum wisi lectus ultrices. Wisi venenatis sapien feugiat ut in, quam rutrum enim gravida sed wisi, sem elit lorem. Nec aliquam tempor mi vitae, vestibulum tellus nulla aliquam, ut ipsum. Erat erat. At commodo, nec pellentesque eros. In eu etiam, montes est, luctus maecenas massa elit nonummy, at velit lacus ac morbi. Augue urna occaecati lorem, placerat pede odio vitae tincidunt, et ullamcorper aenean eros tempor consequat.

Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


"She Speaks"



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<font style="color:#552A00; font-size:60px; letter-spacing:25px;font-family:philosopher;"><b>CAIRO</b></font style>
<div style=" border: 1px double #000;background: #FAFBF8;opacity: .7; text-align: justify; padding:10px; color:#552A00; font-family: neuton; line-height:15px; word-spacing: 5px; width: 399px; font-size: 8pt;">
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, sit metus elementum orci varius lobortis, fringilla dui nulla justo, imperdiet adipiscing placerat maecenas euismod, varius suspendisse vehicula egestas, dolor id lacinia a maecenas aliquam. Sodales aliquam tincidunt, sollicitudin amet vehicula vestibulum ut, nulla ut velit ac nec justo, facilisi integer facilisis rutrum metus eget, non urna nulla condimentum wisi lectus ultrices. Wisi venenatis sapien feugiat ut in, quam rutrum enim gravida sed wisi, sem elit lorem. Nec aliquam tempor mi vitae, vestibulum tellus nulla aliquam, ut ipsum. Erat erat. At commodo, nec pellentesque eros. In eu etiam, montes est, luctus maecenas massa elit nonummy, at velit lacus ac morbi. Augue urna occaecati lorem, placerat pede odio vitae tincidunt, et ullamcorper aenean eros tempor consequat.

Eros sapien dui, magna suspendisse ut, ac arcu in. A luctus taciti ipsum facilisis aliquet ipsum. Eum eleifend porttitor, ut vitae varius, mauris nam ante, lectus pede sed commodo rutrum scelerisque sit. Nulla et elementum nec nam, ut viverra nunc. Eleifend taciti eu cras justo ultricies arcu. Eget aliquet in sem, ligula diam sodales nunc potenti quam lorem. A tempus, nec in, odio wisi, sapien duis adipiscing nec id nunc, odio vitae eget nunc magnis. Mauris varius ultrices accumsan donec leo sed, purus donec. Nec dolor, enim vestibulum. Lectus id neque convallis pede proin, velit leo tortor congue, turpis nonummy.


<center><font style="color:#AC6906; font-size:10px; letter-spacing:7px;font-family:philosopher;"><b>"She Speaks"</b></font style> </center>
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Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:17 PM - Word count:
#4
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤Snow-Body

<center><table background="https://orig00.deviantart.net/7565/f/2018/175/3/c/cairotablesimple_by_amphispiza-dcfcnoh.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:500px;padding-bottom:290px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:60px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:335px; height:300px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(23,22,21,.1); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#150c09;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#eddf93;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #26252b">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

<font style="color:#eddf93;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #26252b">“my sin, my soul.”</font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://snow-body.deviantart.com//">Snow-Body</a>  </font> </div>     </center>




“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”


ART ➤lightningspam

<center><table background="https://orig00.deviantart.net/1f7c/f/2018/182/9/7/cairotable_by_amphispiza-dcg0rzg.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:550px;padding-bottom:30px;padding-top:670px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:20px;><tr><td height="350px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:395px; height:280px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(23,22,21,.5); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#f7ead0;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#f5cd20;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #30291e">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lightningspam">lightningspam</a>  </font> </div>     </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”


Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.” “my sin, my soul.”

ART ➤CasArtss CODE ➤ twisty

<center><table background="https://orig00.deviantart.net/da25/f/2018/258/9/5/cairocasstablenostretch_by_amphispiza-dcmxn62.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:550px;padding-bottom:380px;padding-top:75px;padding-left:100px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:325px; height:310px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:transparent; overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#c5c0bd;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”


Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.” <font style="color:#e8712b;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>

</div></td></tr>  </table>  <font style="color:#0a0d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/casartss">CasArtss</a> CODE ➤ twisty  </font> </center>




“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
and more here and stuff?

ART ➤lightningspam


<center><table background="https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/0364ef72-da23-4ba0-8acb-c60061680756/dcofejv-8685de33-f383-4884-80a7-643e9c6ff055.png/v1/fill/w_1024,h_764,strp/princess_by_lightningspam_dcofejv-fullview.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:white; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:1px solid black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:10px;padding-top:625px;padding-left:20px;padding-right:200px;<tr><td height="300px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:385px; height:200px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(23,22,21,.0); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#010009;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#fea354;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow:0px 0px 0px #000000">“my sin, my soul.”</font>

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
and more here and stuff?

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#658382;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lightningspam">lightningspam</a>  </font> </div>     </center>


Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:20 PM - Word count:
#5
Words Here
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”


STOCK ➤giphy


<center><table background="https://k.nickpic.host/BUsDtM.gif" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:530px;padding-bottom:40px;padding-top:45px;padding-left:50px;padding-right:50px;<tr><td height="230px"><tr><td align="center"><font style="color:#feffff;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 20px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black;">Words Here </font>
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:390px; height:390px;padding-right:20px;padding-left:20px;padding-top:20px;padding-bottom:20px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(24,16,16,.8); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#c57d31;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#feffff;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#728292;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">STOCK ➤<a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/loop-motion-graphics-techno-xT9IgN8YKRhByRBzMI?utm_source=media-link&utm_medium=landing&utm_campaign=Media%20Links&utm_term=">giphy</a>  </font> </div>  </center>


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”


ART ➤Andiliion CODE➤ twisty



<center><table background="https://k.nickpic.host/bzdIxb.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:4px solid #231023; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:550px;padding-bottom:570px;padding-top:95px;padding-left:290px;padding-right:5px;<tr><td height="350px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:225px; height:470px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(70,34,65,.4); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#ffe1cd;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#ffff37;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #190b17">“my sin, my soul.” </font>


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#231023;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/andiliion/art/Soul-of-fire-798805458">Andiliion</a> CODE➤ twisty  </font> </div>  </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
ART➤Luni TABLE ➤TWISTY


<center><table background="https://k.nickpic.host/rmHeRA.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#060500; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:2px solid #180000; outline-color:black; outline-style:;width:530px;padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:650px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:5px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; ">
<div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-right:05px;"><font style="color:#553518;font-family:times;font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px;letter-spacing:0.2em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#9c6320;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 13px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."  </font>


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
</div></td></tr>  </table><div align=center>   <font style="color:#000000;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lunicea">Luni</a> TABLE ➤TWISTY </font> </div>      </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
                  

STOCK➤ Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI


<center><table background="https://k.nickpic.host/rKhu2z.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#0a0504; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:2px solid #180000; outline-color:black; outline-style:;width:570px;padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:805px;padding-left:35px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; ">
<div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:05px;padding-right:05px;"><font style="color:#472305;font-family:times;font-size: 8px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.2em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#e9830a;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ff5a00;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."  </font>


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align=center>   <font style="color:black;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">STOCK➤<a href="www.dawnthieves.de"> Dawnthieves</a>   ART ➤AMPHI </font> </div>      </center>



POST HERE “I will be a Queen— with or without you.”


ART ➤Volinfer EDITS X CODE ➤ amphi


<center><table background="https://cdnw.nickpic.host/rKYCUN.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:830px;padding-top:15px;padding-left:70px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:465px; height:320px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(184,193,190,.0); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#cabea8;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">POST HERE<font style="color:#b8a635;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #0a0301;">  “I will be a Queen— with or without you.” </font>


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#b8a635;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/volinfer">Volinfer</a> EDITS X CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </div>  </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”


ART ➤InstantCoyote CODE ➤ amphi


<center><table background="https://cdnw.nickpic.host/sBIluD.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#000000; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:black; outline-style:double;width:590px;padding-bottom:520px;padding-top:95px;padding-left:112px;padding-right:30px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:335px; height:480px;padding-right:10px;padding-left:10px;padding-top:10px;padding-bottom:10px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(26,23,40,.4); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#0c0b13;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#f4ab5c;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffb43f;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>


</div></td></tr>  </table><center>  <font style="color:#000000;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/instantcoyote/art/Forest-Stalker-781819215">InstantCoyote</a> CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </center></center>


Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:20 PM - Word count:
#6
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”


ART ➤soar CODE ➤ amphi


<center><table background="https://cdnw.nickpic.host/sFAhuX.png" style="background-position:left; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:650px;padding-bottom:30px;padding-top:35px;padding-left:327px;padding-right:0px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:295px; height:280px;padding-right:20px;padding-left:30px;padding-top:20px;padding-bottom:20px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(24,24,24,.3); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#5f5750;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#f4e027;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#f4e027;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>


</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#5f5750;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="www.redemptari.deviantart.com">soar</a> CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </div>  </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
                  

STOCK➤ Dawnthieves ART ➤AMPHI


<center><table background="https://cdnw.nickpic.host/sFO1D1.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:#0d0624; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:1px double #000000; outline-color:black; outline-style:;width:560px;padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:955px;padding-left:35px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; ">
<div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:05px;padding-right:05px;"><font style="color:#474257;font-family:times;font-size: 8px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.2em;word-spacing:0.2em;"> “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#e9830a;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ff5a00;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."  </font>


“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align=center>   <font style="color:black;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">STOCK➤<a href="www.dawnthieves.de"> Dawnthieves</a>   ART ➤AMPHI </font> </div>      </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤Lightningspam


<center><table background="https://cdnw.nickpic.host/sQ3r0X.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:500px;padding-left:60px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:335px; height:300px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(18,18,15,.8); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#656768;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #8c740e">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

<font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #8c740e">“my sin, my soul.”</font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/lightningspam">Lightningspam</a>  </font> </div>     </center>





Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.
“speaks”
CODE ➤ SOAR . ART ➤ MykaylaBlue with edits by amphi

<center><div style="margin-top:20px;width:600px;border: solid 7px #bf8063; box-shadow: 0px 0px 15px #201d17;background-color:#fbe9cd;"><img src="https://img.nickpic.host/35BEFq.png" width="300px" style="float:left;"><div style="height:383px;overflow:auto;margin-left:80px;padding:10px;background-image:url('url');font-family:playfair display;font-size:11px;line-height:14px;font-family:georgia;text-align:justify;color:#131d1a;border-left:3px #e0ebe6 double;opacity:0.8;">

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.

  Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.
<center><span style="color:#060504;letter-spacing:1px;font-style:italic;line-height:14px;">“speaks”</span> </div></center><div align="center">  <font style="color:#dacba7;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">CODE  ➤ SOAR .  ART ➤ <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/mykalablue/art/--826074790">MykaylaBlue</a> with edits by amphi </font> </div>



EDITTING

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Morbi quis tellus nec massa mollis faucibus. Etiam bibendum risus nec arcu vestibulum venenatis. Curabitur interdum consequat gravida. Fusce nec odio quis arcu auctor auctor. Integer ac odio rhoncus, viverra nisl viverra, blandit elit. Fusce feugiat eget nibh et rhoncus. Nunc sollicitudin volutpat commodo. Cras pretium lacus non orci molestie hendrerit. Praesent ligula augue, vehicula auctor blandit et, ultrices eu tellus. Integer suscipit arcu ut tincidunt bibendum. Praesent placerat tortor in lacus venenatis cursus. Ut nec tincidunt dolor, sed eleifend mauris. Aliquam erat volutpat. Nulla pharetra, diam dapibus imperdiet tincidunt, nibh eros fermentum leo, in imperdiet arcu neque in urna. Suspendisse non cursus mauris. Praesent in posuere lacus. Ut erat lectus, gravida ac libero sagittis, rhoncus rutrum enim. Nullam in mauris vel metus faucibus dignissim vulputate volutpat lectus. Proin a urna lacus. Sed condimentum scelerisque venenatis. Duis mattis placerat velit in vehicula. Cras at pulvinar augue. Nullam vitae velit convallis, feugiat urna consectetur, accumsan nisi. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc scelerisque orci est, nec gravida sapien lacinia vestibulum.
“speaks”
CODE ➤ SOAR . ART ➤ Volinfer with edits by amphi

Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:20 PM - Word count:
#7
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤Aurru


<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/3Vmqzz.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:600px;padding-top:20px;padding-left:5px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:255px; height:350px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(14,13,15,.8); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#867267;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #dbd390">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

<font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #8c740e">“my sin, my soul.”</font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/aurru/art/Righteous-Heir-770900361">Aurru</a>  </font> </div>     </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤Barladera

<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/3WRgUN.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:150px;padding-top:700px;padding-left:100px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:355px; height:250px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(11,9,7,.8); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#ece0c7;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #f5c43f">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

<font style="color:#eaca44;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #8c740e">“my sin, my soul.”</font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/barladera">Barladera</a>  </font> </div>     </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?



ART ➤MayhWolf CODE ➤ amphi


<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/FX7z3N.png" style="background-position:left; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:601px;padding-bottom:30px;padding-top:25px;padding-left:320px;padding-right:0px;><tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:300px; height:400px;padding-right:20px;padding-left:20px;padding-top:20px;padding-bottom:20px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(32,29,26,.99); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#908475;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#ffea57;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffeca8;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?



</div><div align="right"><font style="color:#5f5750;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/mayhwolf">MayhWolf</a> CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </div></td>  </tr>  </table>  </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤MayhWolf CODE ➤ amphi


<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/FX7z3N.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:380px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:240px;padding-right:20px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:405px; height:220px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px;padding-top:13px;padding-bottom:15px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(23,22,21,.1); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#eae0d1;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. <font style="color:#eddf93;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #26252b">“my sin, my soul.”</font>  But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

<font style="color:#ffea57;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffeca8;">“my sin, my soul.” </font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#ffea57;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffeca8;">“my sin, my soul.” </font> Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

</div><div align="right"><font style="color:#5f5750;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/mayhwolf">MayhWolf</a> CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </div> </td></tr>  </table>   </center>




https://img.nickpic.host/Fzftl2.png

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?

“my sin, my soul.”

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”




and more here and stuff?



Art ➤KreyxicatCODE ➤ amphi



<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/FzfRkx.png" style="background-position:top; background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;width:600px;padding-bottom:130px;padding-top:785px;padding-left:120px;padding-right:50px;<tr><td height="250px"><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div style="width:355px; height:400px;padding-right:20px;padding-left:30px;padding-top:20px;padding-bottom:20px; background-color:#ffffff; background-color:rgba(18,8,4,.5); overflow-y: auto;"><font style="color:#aea17d;font-family:times; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.2em;">“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?

<font style="color:#ee8c00;font-style:italic; font-family:lucidia; font-size: 12px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #f6ca00;">“my sin, my soul.” </font>

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”<BR><BR><BR>

and more here and stuff?



</div></td></tr>  </table><div align="center">  <font style="color:#5f5750;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">Art ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/kreyxicat/art/Ready-to-Brawl-855285564">Kreyxicat</a>CODE ➤ amphi  </font> </div>  </center>



“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. “my sin, my soul.” But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

“my sin, my soul.” Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”

ART ➤som2-O

Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 03:21 PM - Word count:
#8
I'LL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES
BECAUSE I LOVE THE ADRENALINE IN MY VEINS
All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:

"I wish you and your family also as to your friend Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will."

I like that very much: "If the accident will."



ART➤ Marquez0725/NorthernRed LCODE➤AMPHI


<center><img src="https://img.nickpic.host/SyfasO.gif" width=600px"><center><font style="color:#ffcc00;font-style:UPPERCASE; font-family:impact; font-size: 20px; line-height: 18px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffae00;">I'LL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES<BR>BECAUSE I LOVE THE ADRENALINE IN MY VEINS </font></center> <div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; "><div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 50%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:85px;padding-right:85px;"><font style="color:#cd8e5c;font-family:arial;font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.em;word-spacing:0.em;">All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:

"I wish you and your family also as to your friend Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will."

I like that very much:<font style="color:#ffcc00;font-style:italic; font-family:impact; font-size: 11px; line-height: 10px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #ffae00;">  "If the accident will."  </font>



</div><div align=center>   <font style="color:black;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">ART➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/marquez0725/art/Running-Wolf-YCH-Amphispiza-888037646"><font color="#cd8e5c"> Marquez0725/NorthernRed</a>   </font>LCODE➤AMPHI </font> </div>      </center></font>


Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-17-2021, 07:12 PM - Word count:
#9


All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:

"I wish you and your family also as to your friend Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will."

I like that very much: "If the accident will."

All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:
CODE➤ Claerie ART ➤ shapetales



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<center><div class="cairo_shape"><table background-color:transparent; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:0px dashed black; outline-color:transparent; outline-style:double;><tr><tr><td align="center">
<div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative; padding-bottom:0px;padding-top:0px;padding-left:0px;padding-right:0px;"><div class="cairo_middle"><font style="color:#dcd9c5;font-family:verdana; font-size: 9px; line-height: 13px;letter-spacing:0.0em;word-spacing:0.1em;">All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:

"I wish you and your family also as to your friend Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope that we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxi cab if the accident will."

I like that very much:<h> "If the accident will."  </h>

All this happened, more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. One guy I knew really was shot in Dresden for taking a teapot that wasn't his. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. And so on. I've changed all the names.

I really did go back to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground.

I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. His name was Gerhard Müller. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. But things were much better now. He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education. His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm. So it goes.

He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said:
</div></td></tr>  </table></div><div align="center">  <font style="color:#110d0f;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 16px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">CODE➤<a href="http://sonder.rpginit.com/member.php?action=profile&uid=1"> Claerie</a> ART ➤<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/shapetales/art/On-Flame-s-Borders-Commission-846245365"> shapetales</a> </font> </div>     </center>


Cairo Tiamat
Female 3 Mainlander Imperial Army Captain
Royalist

19

posts
115.00

renown
Medium • Pine x Petrichor


welcome to the fire
posted 08-18-2021, 09:23 AM - Word count:
#10




I never spend much time in school but I taught ladies plenty. It’s true I hire my body out for pay, hey hey. I’ve gotten burned over Cheryl Tiegs, blown up for Raquel Welch. But when I end up in the hay it’s only hay, hey hey. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. ’Cause I’m the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine.

Ulysses, Ulysses — Soaring through all the galaxies. In search of Earth, flying in to the night. Ulysses, Ulysses — Fighting evil and tyranny, with all his power, and with all of his might. Ulysses — no-one else can do the things you do. Ulysses — like a bolt of thunder from the blue. Ulysses — always fighting all the evil forces bringing peace and justice to all.

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart, a self-made millionaire, he’s quite a guy. This is Mrs H., she’s gorgeous, she’s one lady who knows how to take care of herself. By the way, my name is Max. I take care of both of them, which ain’t easy, ’cause when they met it was MURDER!

manip + code: clae

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<div class="cairo2">
<div class="cairo2_loves">
I never spend much time in school but I taught ladies plenty. It’s true I hire my body out for pay, hey hey. I’ve gotten burned over Cheryl Tiegs, blown up for Raquel Welch. But when I end up in the hay it’s only hay, hey hey. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. <h>’Cause I’m the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine.</h>

Ulysses, Ulysses — Soaring through all the galaxies. In search of Earth, flying in to the night. Ulysses, Ulysses — <b>Fighting evil and tyranny</b>, with all his power, and with all of his might. Ulysses — no-one else can do the things you do. Ulysses — like a bolt of thunder from the blue. Ulysses — <i>always fighting all the evil forces bringing peace and justice to all.</i>

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart, a self-made millionaire, he’s quite a guy. This is Mrs H., she’s gorgeous, she’s one lady who knows how to take care of herself. By the way, my name is Max. I take care of both of them, which ain’t easy, ’cause when they met it was MURDER!

<div style="margin: auto; width: 40%; height: 40px; border-bottom: 1px solid;"></div>
</div>
</div>
<center><font style="font-size: 6pt; color: #5e5e5e">manip + code: clae</font></center>





I never spend much time in school but I taught ladies plenty. It’s true I hire my body out for pay, hey hey. I’ve gotten burned over Cheryl Tiegs, blown up for Raquel Welch. But when I end up in the hay it’s only hay, hey hey. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. ’Cause I’m the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine.

Ulysses, Ulysses — Soaring through all the galaxies. In search of Earth, flying in to the night. Ulysses, Ulysses — Fighting evil and tyranny, with all his power, and with all of his might. Ulysses — no-one else can do the things you do. Ulysses — like a bolt of thunder from the blue. Ulysses — always fighting all the evil forces bringing peace and justice to all.

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart, a self-made millionaire, he’s quite a guy. This is Mrs H., she’s gorgeous, she’s one lady who knows how to take care of herself. By the way, my name is Max. I take care of both of them, which ain’t easy, ’cause when they met it was MURDER!

manip + code: clae

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<div class="cairo">
<div class="cairo_loves">
I never spend much time in school but I taught ladies plenty. It’s true I hire my body out for pay, hey hey. I’ve gotten burned over Cheryl Tiegs, blown up for Raquel Welch. But when I end up in the hay it’s only hay, hey hey. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. <h>’Cause I’m the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine.</h>

Ulysses, Ulysses — Soaring through all the galaxies. In search of Earth, flying in to the night. Ulysses, Ulysses — <b>Fighting evil and tyranny</b>, with all his power, and with all of his might. Ulysses — no-one else can do the things you do. Ulysses — like a bolt of thunder from the blue. Ulysses — <i>always fighting all the evil forces bringing peace and justice to all.</i>

This is my boss, Jonathan Hart, a self-made millionaire, he’s quite a guy. This is Mrs H., she’s gorgeous, she’s one lady who knows how to take care of herself. By the way, my name is Max. I take care of both of them, which ain’t easy, ’cause when they met it was MURDER!

<div style="margin: auto; width: 40%; height: 40px; border-bottom: 1px solid;"></div>
</div>
</div>
<center><font style="font-size: 6pt; color: #5e5e5e">manip + code: clae</font></center>