End to End (Part 2)

Started by QuirkyFelicity, September 28, 2012, 11:01:24 PM

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Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

CaptiveAngel

CaptiveAngel's O/O.

Absentees & Apologies-Gone for a few weeks.  Sorry!

Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

CaptiveAngel

CaptiveAngel's O/O.

Absentees & Apologies-Gone for a few weeks.  Sorry!

Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

CaptiveAngel

CaptiveAngel's O/O.

Absentees & Apologies-Gone for a few weeks.  Sorry!


CaptiveAngel

CaptiveAngel's O/O.

Absentees & Apologies-Gone for a few weeks.  Sorry!

Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

Dez



Dez


Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.


Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

Tersius


Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

HannibalBarca

“Those who lack drama in their
lives strive to invent it.”   ― Terry Masters
"It is only when we place hurdles too high to jump
before our characters, that they learn how to fly."  --  Me
Owed/current posts
Sigs by Ritsu

Observing Trifles

|| the hunt ||

my, my, those eyes like fire;
i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre.
come now, bite through these wires;
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired.

Dez


Falstaff


Dovel

Now we live, tomorrow not
Enjoy your pleasures, lest they rot
Let not them pass this very day
For on the morrow regret may with you stay



Falstaff


Dez