corpseknight: (bitebitekiss)
[personal profile] corpseknight
Another day, another Legion assault.

Azeroth is a world under siege. What began as small-scale invasions, precision dagger-strikes aimed at the hearts of Horde and Alliance territory, has erupted into a globe-spanning storm of demonic fury. There's nowhere safe from the demons, nowhere anyone could hope to hide and ride it out.

Lark doesn't wonder anymore at the wasteful short-sightedness of Legion tactics: they don't need to be better than they are. The demons are ultimate masters of the war of attrition, grinding down whatever stands in their way with an infinite immortal army. Whispers have it that only boredom and bloodlust are keeping the Legion from their deathstroke--that they're toying with Azeroth's defenders, like a cat with its helpless prey. The very thought of that makes Lark furious, even as the sadistic part of him has to admire its sheer cruelty.

Certainly there's every reason to give in to despair in the face of the odds against them. Even the Ebon Blade, near-immortal themselves, face a daily litany of permanent losses that the necromancers can't quite make up. (Acherus is daily growing stranger to Lark's senses, full of new voices and new scents as the battlefield dead are raised to replace the lost.)

It's rage that keeps Lark going--rage, and a leavening of irrational hope. It's rage that's kept him out here in the Barrens since sunrise on the longest day of his undeath, tireless in defense of the Crossroads and Ratchet and all the little outlying farms.

It's rage that's kept him out here trailing a wounded shivarra from the Crossroads nearly to the Wailing Caverns. The six-armed demoness had vanished from her attackers' sight when the odds against her grew overwhelming, intending to slip away and lick her wounds before rejoining the fray. The Caverns seemed like an ideal place to hole up and disappear, but her blood trail can't be so easily hidden from Lark's unnaturally keen nose. He hadn't been in the original group to attack her--she shed those quite handily--but came quite fortuitously across her fresh spoor, and yelled for anyone who'd help him take the demon bitch down.

That landed him in the van of an irregular, mixed-faction group of soldiers, all of them hungry for revenge. It's only grown in size as they traveled and the trail become fresher and easier to track.

The oasis is swarming with felstalkers and imps when the ragged troop arrives. Most of them splinter off to deal with the immediate threat, wary lest the lesser demons rally and come at them from behind in force--but Lark stays on his quarry's trail, intent as a dog with a bone. It leads straight into the upper parts of the cave system, and that should spark caution in his heart, the fear of an ambush once he's out of shouting distance of anyone who could help. But--he simply doesn't care. The shivarra's down there and she's injured, and he's going to find her and he's going to dismember her and he's going to enjoy every moment of it, because the Legion deserve no better for what they've done.

Date: 2016-11-05 12:05 pm (UTC)
paladingus: (after battle)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
For a while, faction lines had still meant something. Borders had become looser, but the forces defending Alliance territory had remained primarily Alliance, and the Horde had kept largely to the Horde. Simon had even confessed (literally, on his knees, to be assigned penance) to a kind of grim satisfaction when he'd first learned of the attack on Hillsbrad. Let its new masters reap what they've sown, he'd thought. Whatever happens to Southshore now, it can only be an improvement on what the Forsaken did.

The Legion, of course, does not discriminate between deserving and undeserving targets. For every attack on the monsters of Tarren Mill, there's another on poor battered Westfall, and on the innocents of Dun Morogh. Even the goblins of Azshara and Gadgetzan have his sympathies, because damn it, he knows some of them now, and he worries for them. Gradually, he comes to realize what he should have from the very start. This is far, far beyond any partisan squabble. This is beyond his mistrust of the orcs, beyond even his seething hatred of the Forsaken and their plague bombs. An attack on Azeroth is an attack on Azeroth, and it doesn't matter where the attack falls.

He meets up with his alchemist friend in Tanaris first, their usual neutral rendezvous spot, and after three attacks in increasingly-rapid succession, opts to stay in Kalimdor. Vizzik departs for Azshara, fearful for the safety of his cartel brethren in the Orgrimmar slums, and Simon, chasing rumors of a still-larger wave of demons than before, makes for the Barrens.

By now, the defending army is as much Alliance as it is Horde. Simon accepts a conjured waterskin from an undead mage without thinking about it, and opts to drink it even after a sharp, suspicious double-take when he realizes that the hand holding it out has half the finger bones exposed. He fights his way through the ceaseless mess of demonic soldiers alongside orcs and tauren, dwarves and gnomes, joining one group and then another and keeping the adrenaline pumping for as long as he can.

By the time he finds himself watching a strangely familiar figure detach from the pack and head off alone, he's dizzy from the foreign Barrens heat, aching everywhere, and too weary to realize immediately where he recognizes that man from. His brain pulls it belatedly together--the death knight from Westfall, the one who helped save that little girl--and when it does, he follows behind, disinclined to let Lark endanger himself with no backup at all. Why Lark has wandered off on his own, Simon has no clue, but it's a bad idea even for someone as proficient at defending himself as a death knight is. Subtlety may be for people in lighter armor, but prudence is for everyone.

He has mixed feelings about this cave. Relief from the merciless beating of the desert sun is a blessing, but--it's a cave. With demons in it. All he can do is keep a shield at the ready and hope to hell nothing jumps out from around a corner at him. Then again, if anything does decide to make its presence known, it'll probably jump on Lark first.

Date: 2016-11-07 06:50 am (UTC)
paladingus: (feel the wrath of the Light)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
It would probably have been a good idea for Simon to announce his presence somehow, to make it clear that he's following to help, but he hadn't wanted to simply go shouting about it when there could be all kinds of things lurking in this cave to pounce on whatever makes noise.

He's close enough behind Lark to hear that question, though, even if he can't understand it, and wonders if it's directed at him. His understanding of Thalassian is limited to some rude phrases and situationally useful things like 'don't shoot,' but he can almost parse the meaning from context. Before he can answer or explain himself, the felhounds are upon them.

He hates these fucking things. He hates the houndmasters that usually accompany them even more, but at least the drooling creatures are the only thing they need to worry about in the moment. There's a trick to handling them, if he can draw enough of them to him, but he can't be careful or precise in his wielding of the Light when large packs of anything are concerned. He's not sure he'll be able to avoid friendly fire this time.

"Get back!" he shouts to Lark, trying to catch the attention of the alpha-hound by flinging a holy bolt at its head with force enough to spill over onto its nearest companions. Another, far enough away from Lark that it can't fight its way through its gruesome brethren to reach him, turns on Simon instead, and he throws it hard into the cave wall with a swing of his hammer.
Edited Date: 2016-11-07 07:11 am (UTC)
paladingus: (feel the wrath of the Light)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
If they can split the pack in two, it'll be in both of their favor, and he has no less reason than Lark does to want to keep his distance. Not even a paladin can escape unharmed from the full power of a death knight's plague. Simon wants to keep well clear of the spreading defilement.

When those few round on him, he takes his chance and leaps back toward the mouth of the cave, beckoning them to follow with a bright, taunting glow and blasting them back with all the force of the Light's righteous indignation as they lunge for his throat. "Let all thy sins be laid bare before the judgment of the Light; let its flame purge the wickedness from thy tainted blood--" Simon's voice, clear and ringing when uplifted in blessing or praise, becomes unrecognizable when he fights, his battle prayers rough and guttural and snarled with boiling hatred. The Light is no more beautiful when it kills than anything else is.

But perhaps the Illidari have the right of it, in a way; there's no place for beauty in a fight like this, and like must be fought with like. The hounds die with almost pitiable yelps, and Simon presses forward, reaching out with the Light to sear whatever he can reach, anything and everything around him, felhound and death knight alike. He isn't trying to hurt Lark, but the pack is insatiable, and there are so many, and he's no stranger to getting lost in the heat of a battle. When the Light chooses to bless its instruments of retribution with a second wind, and a third, the momentum is almost euphoric.
Edited Date: 2016-11-07 06:39 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-08 07:19 pm (UTC)
paladingus: (looking up)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
It doesn't take long for him to realize that the threat is gone and he's now doing far more harm than good. It's only a few moments before he cuts his prayer abruptly short, understanding Lark's tone, if not the words themselves. But it's clearly long enough to have done some damage. "Oh. Oh--shit."

He shoves aside a charred hound corpse and kneels down, digging a healing potion--a real one, strong and professionally made, not his glorified chamomile tea from before--from his bag. "I'm sorry. I had to make sure I got them all..." He could, of course, have let Lark handle more of them on his own, but it seems neither of them ends up thinking very clearly when demons are involved. When that berserker-rage begins to die away, he's ashamed of his own lack of control. It doesn't befit a paladin, even if he can call it religious fervor. And he can't even attempt to heal the damage he caused, except by offering up the potion.

"Take this. It's a lot better than anything I could make." As per usual, he forgets that he should clarify exactly what 'it' is to someone who can't see it, but he does press it to Lark's hand rather than just holding it out for him to take.

can I please move to Azeroth now

Date: 2016-11-09 08:31 am (UTC)
paladingus: (Default)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
He's awkwardly uncertain whether he needs to reintroduce himself, if Lark will have recognized his voice or remembered him at all, and he too relaxes a bit at the recognition. He's glad, too, that there are no hard feelings about the accidental holy charbroiling.

"Yeah, it's me. To be honest, I'm not sure why you walked in here in the first place. I was gonna ask."

As long as the demons are held temporarily at bay, he sits down to take a long drink of water and catch his breath. All things considered, he isn't too bruised or battered yet--he's been keeping company with healers far more competent than he is, and that makes all the difference. The felhounds have taken a lot out of him, but so far, he thinks, so good.

It's kind of Lark to be so immediately concerned about him, even when still healing up the wounds Simon's inflicted on him. Simon remembers that from the last time they'd crossed paths. He has less reason to be defensive about it at the moment, too, and doesn't complain.

"Not so far as I can tell," he says. "I feel all right. You didn't get me nearly as bad as I got you." Even if the plague had gotten a foothold, Simon's much better at curing illness than he is at healing wounds. But he doesn't feel feverish, though it's hard to tell when the heat of battle hasn't subsided yet, or sick to his stomach, or any other symptoms he presumes he'd have.

"So--why did you run off on your own, exactly? You don't strike me as a guy with a death wish. I mean, for one, it'd be kind of redundant." It's what passes for teasing, from a paladin.

*writes in Abasik Kampfyre*

Date: 2016-11-10 10:03 am (UTC)
paladingus: (hey baby i have a really big hammer)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
The close quarters of the cave will make it difficult, but he'll work harder to keep his holy explosions contained if they're attacked again. Just because burning is preferable to dismembering doesn't mean he ought not to try for 'neither.' It's a courtesy he knows the death knight would extend to him in turn.

He'd been all in favor of persuading Lark to leave the cramped and demon-infested cave and rejoin the fight outside, because even if this place is blessedly cooler than anywhere else in the Barrens, its ravening felhound population makes it less than ideal to hang around in. But--if there's a specific demon to hunt, one of the smarter and more dangerous ones, few paladins would turn down the opportunity. Shivarra are not a threat to be dismissed lightly. Taking one of them down could be an actual blow to the Legion's forces, albeit a small one.

"Sure," he says, rising and shouldering his mace. "Let's go say hi."

Date: 2016-11-12 11:58 am (UTC)
paladingus: (Default)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
It's a little jarring to see a blood elf do that, even an undead one, but Simon's commanded enough worgen in battle that he's not taken aback for long. The shivarra is far enough away that he can't sense her presence. If Lark can track her down by scent, Simon will follow his lead.

"Should be," he says, though he sounds a little dubious. He doesn't much like fighting in the dark. "I don't have a torch or anything. Kind of makes you wish the Light was more of a literal thing."

He'll manage, somehow. The holy force of his faith does light things up when he turns it on enemies, just not consistently enough to help him see what he's doing, and he doesn't have heightened senses to compensate.

"Sarah got settled at the orphanage all right," he says, as they make their way into the depths of the cave. He keeps his voice down, barely above a whisper, lest their conversation alert anything hostile, but he thinks maybe Lark would want to know.

Date: 2016-11-14 10:13 am (UTC)
paladingus: (looking up)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
Prayer can do a lot of things, of course, and he would like to think he has at least a basic understanding of that range. But he's come to realize over the years, as more cultures make their way into the paladin fold, that even when they're all ostensibly deriving their power from the same source, shared faith can have some awfully strong regional flavor to it.

"We were never big on utility spells in the Silver Hand," he says, "or the Crusade. I guess it would have been different in Silvermoon." He doesn't mean to sound quite so dismissive of the blood knights, or to be quite so blunt in his agreement that they don't count as real paladins after what they did, but the implication comes out nonetheless.

It doesn't mean he wouldn't like to learn a simple spell like that, though, if it could be taught. He thinks sometimes, in moments of idle fantasy, that if he hadn't become a paladin, he might have liked to study magic--but that's a flight of fancy that never lasts long. Like you would ever have had the brains for that, he tells himself, and who are you kidding, can't even manage a healing prayer because it takes too much book-learning, and you think you could have been a mage?

The subject change is welcome, after that tense moment where he holds still behind Lark and readies himself for a fight, and he doesn't say anything one way or another about learning the torch spell. "Yeah," he says, as he lets his guard relax ever so slightly again. "Not a big one, for sure, but they didn't give me a hard time about it. She's buried behind the abbey now." They'd both kept their promises.
Edited Date: 2016-11-14 10:17 am (UTC)
paladingus: (looking up)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
The bluntness merits a double take, though, a raised eyebrow that he's a little glad Lark can't see, and a slight pinprick of guilt for having been so obvious about it when Lark himself hasn't done anything to deserve dislike. Simon's already mentally cordoned him off as 'different,' 'one of the good ones'--and he assumes that they're talking about blood knights specifically, not the entire population of Silvermoon as a whole. (Anyone who's heard Simon's confessions would argue that his problem is more that he likes elves just a bit too much.)

"Well, no, I--" Nope, he can't finish that sentence without running afoul of the honesty code. Before he can dig himself into a deeper hole by lamely offering that he thinks Lady Liadrin is sort of all right, Lark mercifully changes tack. Not that his wistful hypothetical doesn't make Simon feel bad in its own way, when it's a kindness he wouldn't have expected from a blood knight or a death knight.

"I'll leave some in your name too." It's the least he can do, and he knows that both Sarah and her late mother would appreciate it.

The darkness is starting to make him uncomfortable, the heat isn't helping, and the moisture everywhere just makes their surroundings feel stagnant and unclean. He's not as sensitive to the echoes as Lark is, but he can tell even in the dark that they've reached something vast, and he can hear the change in the way the stalactites drip into the underground lake. He shivers.

He'd welcome a mage's frost right now, or a shaman's, anything to counteract the soupy air and the puddles of sweat under his armor, but Lark's unholy magic is just about the only thing that could make him feel worse. Still, it's practical, and no corpses were harmed in the making of the ice path, so he can keep his complaints to himself.

"You're talking to the Lake Everstill speed skating champ for three years running," he says, testing the ice path and finding it strong enough to hold his considerable weight. As long as it won't collapse, he can make his way along it. It's certainly better than trying to wade across.

"Can you tell how close she is? I don't feel anything, but...this whole place feels wrong to me, so that doesn't mean much."
Edited Date: 2016-11-19 12:32 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-22 02:05 pm (UTC)
paladingus: (oh HELL no)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
Simon has never been to the Barrens before, let alone this particular dank and smelly segment of it. He hasn't been sure what to expect of the local fauna, and until now, he's been too busy fighting demons to think about it much.

But there is one thing a native Lakeshire boy knows well, and that's how to fight an angry thresher attacking out of the depths of nowhere. The answer is 'don't.'

"Oh, come on!" he hears himself shouting over the splash and the clatter of his armor hitting the ice, equal parts despairing and disgusted at the universe's refusal to cut them a break. It is only the width of the ice platform that keeps him from plunging into the lake as well, but he knows that won't last long. He has only a few moments to look around for Lark, trying to discern in the dark where his plate-clad splashing is coming from, and only his own experience with the sound a hunting threshadon makes allows him to distinguish Lark's noises from the rest.

"Grab my hand!" he says, reaching blindly out as close to where Lark went under as he can ascertain. He can drag the death knight to shore from here, he thinks, but keeping either of them from getting bitten in half first is the top priority.
Edited Date: 2016-11-22 02:06 pm (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-23 10:57 am (UTC)
paladingus: (after battle)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
He grips back onto Lark's forearm as tightly as he possibly can when everything is drenched and slimy, his gauntlet protecting him from the viselike grip and the icy cold alike--until Lark hisses that incantation, and then there's no metal in the world thick enough to keep that chill from seeping into Simon's bones.

It's nearly enough to shake his grip loose, when the death knight is already far heavier than he'd somehow expected, but by the grace of the Light (or so he'd like to think, anyway) he manages to hang on as he drags himself steadily backward towards the shore and pulls Lark with him. He can't focus on the thresher, let himself be distracted by its thrashing or its noises, or they'll both be flung back into the water with no hope of rescue this time--

Once ashore, he knows they can't rest until they're out of reach of the beast's long neck, and so he keeps that grip on Lark's arm for another couple yards just to keep him moving. Finally, he releases it, shaking his hand out as if it's been frostburned. As dizzyingly hot and sweaty as he'd been before, he'd rather that than this feverish chill that hasn't yet subsided, the sweat under his breastplate still infuriatingly noticeable with every movement, but cold now as if he's woken from a nightmare.

But even that, he has to admit, is still probably preferable to having just fallen into a lake in a full suit of armor. He's not sure how attuned death knights are to physical discomfort, but it's got to feel pretty awful. He sits back on the ground with a thud. "You all right?"

Date: 2016-11-24 12:32 am (UTC)
paladingus: (brooding)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
That is not an aspect of undeath that Simon's ever given any thought to, and he would find it very distressing indeed if he ever did. He tries hard not to really think about the mechanics of living as a corpse, except sometimes in creeping intrusive thoughts that he can't push away in time. He's curious, but for the most part, not curious enough to want answers for real.

He's not as invested in this fight as Lark is, and the death knight's barely-contained snapping fury makes him lean back away from it, troubled. An undead threshadon is an abomination, yes, and a shivarra is worse, but they're besieged on all sides by equally abominable things, and have been for weeks. He's almost envious of Lark's ability to turn the rage on and keep it on without flagging, even now. He would be envious, if he didn't know where it came from.

"Hell if I know." He sighs, slipping his gauntlets off so that he can let his hands dry before wiping some of that half-frozen sweat out of his eyes. "Take potshots at it from here? It could work if you weren't the one guy around who must have worse aim than I do." He watches the thing bash its own head in, wishing the ice were thick enough to finish the job.

"They're still dangerous when they're beached, but--can't you yank it out of the water with that, uh, thing you all do? You know the thing..." He vaguely mimes a death grip, remembers that Lark can't see it, and lets his hand fall back to his side.

"Or we could let her go. There are bigger things outside right now than a shivarra. Maybe she'll bleed out while we're fighting the dreadlords." She won't. She'll just stay here in the depths of the cave, waiting to kill unwitting adventurers, letting them come to her like flies to a web while she regains her strength.

"No, no, screw that. We're doing this. I'll strip down and swim after the thresher if I have to. But see if you can get it up on land."
Edited Date: 2016-11-24 12:33 am (UTC)

Date: 2016-11-24 09:39 am (UTC)
paladingus: (feel the wrath of the Light)
From: [personal profile] paladingus
He doesn't have more than a moment to sulk over that implied affront to his valor, which is merciful, because he would if he did. He would argue in his own defense that they ought to be out there helping with the larger threats, because the shivarra is small potatoes next to the massive things trampling the huts of the Crossroads right now--but she's still a threat, and they're the only ones who know she needs to be dealt with.

Of course, Lark manages to distract him with more than just the anticipation of combat, in a way Simon can't help but notice is starting to become a pattern. "You have got to stop saying things like that right before you expect me to fight something," he says, readying his mace. The Silvermoon contingent from the Argent Tournament always did that, he remembers, always zeroing in on the paladins with the chastity vows and flirting to get under their skin before the competitions. Or maybe that had only been him. And only that smug bastard Tresilian Mornherald with the especially fabulous hair. It's so much more familiar and less unnerving when all parties involved have functioning internal organs.

He can't be thinking about it now. "All right. You pull it, I'll stun it, and we both hack its head off. Quick and easy." Inasmuch as a mace can be used to do such a thing quickly or easily.

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-24 11:20 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-24 10:07 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-25 05:46 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-25 08:59 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-25 10:57 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-26 01:07 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-26 09:03 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-27 01:28 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 12:21 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 01:25 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 02:46 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 03:40 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 05:16 am (UTC) - Expand

denial for everyone! \o/

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 07:03 am (UTC) - Expand

frigidly? able to rise more than once?

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 08:40 am (UTC) - Expand

all night long, baby.

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 09:20 am (UTC) - Expand

can I hug him plz

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 10:32 am (UTC) - Expand

ugh phone tags

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-28 01:19 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 01:06 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 03:36 am (UTC) - Expand

he is a simple but well-meaning thing.

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 09:05 am (UTC) - Expand

he really does bring it on himself, though

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 09:52 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 11:48 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 12:38 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 01:26 pm (UTC) - Expand

what else are RP addons made for?

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-29 02:10 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-30 01:28 am (UTC) - Expand

awww I hate when that happens :(

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-30 04:03 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-30 06:47 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-30 02:07 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-11-30 11:31 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-01 01:27 am (UTC) - Expand

:( *makes Simon mop them up*

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-01 02:41 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-02 12:59 am (UTC) - Expand

:O ~scandal~

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-02 02:16 am (UTC) - Expand

*leaks it to all the papers*

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-02 04:39 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-02 08:12 am (UTC) - Expand

aw, no, he is trying to be polite!

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-02 12:32 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-03 02:50 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-04 01:15 am (UTC) - Expand

Simon, you prude, I actually wanted to know that

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-05 11:35 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-06 12:02 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-07 04:13 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-08 11:33 pm (UTC) - Expand

just let me know if threading gets stressful. <3

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-10 12:50 pm (UTC) - Expand

oh good!

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-11 12:43 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-14 09:38 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-14 12:13 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-15 07:02 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-16 08:48 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-16 09:18 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-17 06:14 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-17 09:16 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-17 06:06 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-18 02:59 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-18 06:01 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-18 11:14 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-19 06:28 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-19 08:35 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-21 06:42 am (UTC) - Expand

noise you like >>> other kinds of noise

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-21 06:17 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-23 01:21 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-23 05:16 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-23 06:58 am (UTC) - Expand

noooooOOO that's the worst ever! I'm sorry ;_;

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-23 06:08 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-24 02:39 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-24 04:49 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-24 09:34 am (UTC) - Expand

I LOVE IT GIVE ME MORE

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-25 05:51 am (UTC) - Expand

(i'm not in bed shhhh I'm the worst)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-25 11:00 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-25 06:28 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-26 07:49 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-27 07:08 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-27 11:27 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] paladingus - Date: 2016-12-30 06:57 am (UTC) - Expand

Profile

corpseknight: (Default)
Larkspur Plagueheart

March 2017

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 26th, 2017 10:36 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios