She turns away from the King.

A ripple stuns everyone.


A few Myrmidons attack quicker than a whisper of bespeak.


When rude things are done with, Prime bends the iron bars with ease.


“Look at what they’ve made me do.Over and over. Thought they could mend you? No more, my lovely, my first… Lion. And now I’ve taken you from them.”

Many blind eyes seep with desperation.


*Translation event*


They are standing there as before. The menagerie is empty except for the berries on the floor.

One dying Myrmidon coughs bloody phlegm in a corner,


“My Gram worked...”



- Don't presume that you can tell time. Prepare for what time does to you. - Inana of the Twenty-Eighth Cycle.

I yearn to learn more of "Whistler’s Dilemma"  

Some like it fresh. Some like it... alluring. Beginnings of the beginning