Gonna set this world on fire
Have you ever reached a point in your life where you realized you were wasting your true potential? Well I fucking have! More and more as of late, actually. She moved with unrest. Her thick, flame-kissed body weaving through the kingdoms until she reached more appropriate accommodations. The commonlands.
Here, she would settle into her outsider ways. Living each day how she damn well pleased. No rules. No expectations. No fucking cares. What Molotov wanted, Molotov did. The world was her fucking oyster.
Nestle against the heart of an ancient oak, she rested. The girth of her onyx and ruby barrel leaned into the rough, brittle bark. Gently scratching away bits and pieces of it with each breath of air. The dead of winter surrounded her but by the looks of her you couldn't tell it has been months since she has tasted the growth of grass. Surviving well off dried fodder and young sprigs of brush. She must give credit to her bloodlines for the adequate curves she carried. They were neither too much nor too little. Best of both worlds.
With her body at rest, her mind travels. Into all the other minds within reach. Their most inmate secrets exposed. Some cause her to giggle, others a sour taste is left in her mouth. Some minds were just fucked up beyond belief. The wishes they wished unspeakable, but nevertheless intruiging.
Soon her powers come upon a master of disguises. Oh this could be fucking fun! Is always her thought and therefore purpose in her life. A devious grin grows along her ruby lips as she spots the flea bitten grey. Hello she whispers into his mind as his eyes are turned away. He'd never know it hadn't come from her lips. Speaking with the tongue was for lesser individuals is her outlook...
Here, she would settle into her outsider ways. Living each day how she damn well pleased. No rules. No expectations. No fucking cares. What Molotov wanted, Molotov did. The world was her fucking oyster.
Nestle against the heart of an ancient oak, she rested. The girth of her onyx and ruby barrel leaned into the rough, brittle bark. Gently scratching away bits and pieces of it with each breath of air. The dead of winter surrounded her but by the looks of her you couldn't tell it has been months since she has tasted the growth of grass. Surviving well off dried fodder and young sprigs of brush. She must give credit to her bloodlines for the adequate curves she carried. They were neither too much nor too little. Best of both worlds.
With her body at rest, her mind travels. Into all the other minds within reach. Their most inmate secrets exposed. Some cause her to giggle, others a sour taste is left in her mouth. Some minds were just fucked up beyond belief. The wishes they wished unspeakable, but nevertheless intruiging.
Soon her powers come upon a master of disguises. Oh this could be fucking fun! Is always her thought and therefore purpose in her life. A devious grin grows along her ruby lips as she spots the flea bitten grey. Hello she whispers into his mind as his eyes are turned away. He'd never know it hadn't come from her lips. Speaking with the tongue was for lesser individuals is her outlook...
MOLOTOV
@[Gunsynd]