07-09-2018, 06:50 PM
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SING, GODDESS, OF THE RAGE OF ACHILLES
Bastille had promised weekly tasks would be arranged by Monday at least, and so here he was. Again with the yawns -- he yawned as he came back in from a patrol and posted up in the Circle, settling for a moment as he shook off a slight headache. His powers were starting to slip again, which was irritating, but a brisk exercise seemed to have draining the excess energy out of him. That was... reassuring, at least.
"Weekly tasks," he called, leaning back slightly, swallowing another yawn. He could swear his fucking jaw was getting tired from the frequency of those damned things.
"Weekly tasks," he called, leaning back slightly, swallowing another yawn. He could swear his fucking jaw was getting tired from the frequency of those damned things.
[b]BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS — ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — TAGS
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]