"An unrepentant downpour of maniacal laughter rushes down the halls of the Iron Banner. Hungering Blades shimmer and separate reanimated flesh from ancient bone. She is the wave and the undertow. Carving all she sees, the glue which binds all folds on the envelope of life and death is fluid, flowing. Hers alone. Forever." -Superman Corps 2/18/15
-
Edited by Meatonyourbuns: 2/19/2015 8:07:38 AMWe stood up on two legs And raised are heads above golden grass He was there We sharpened stone and steel Used tools to harvest grass, beast, and brother He was there We clustered together In brick and mud, swarming with rats and plague He was there We built nations and mistrust Our fingers hovered over the red button He smiled Still we build, to rise above the golden grass Away from the reach of his scythe For a day when he will no longer harvest.
-
Roses are red Violets are blue Fuk jew
-
"Reign of Terror!". Lord Shaxx cried out from the diaphragm, and the dust beneath a doorway twenty feet away dovetailed upward. It was her. Saladin's Fist. She stood in solitude. Beneath her fingernails their blood sang a symphony. The witness off all that was lost. Crimson in color and sound. And feel. The footsteps on the ground betray the number of the armada that shattered against the cliffs when SHE came. SHE is the wave and the undertow. SHE is Saladin's fist, and all suffer in her wake.