The blade met with Icing Death, the enchanted scimitar deflecting her swing. The smiling face of a dark elf behind where the metal kissed.
"You have a fine swing, but you need better footwork."
"Of course."
"Yes...? Can I help you?"
βοΈ char
*Screaming, clutching her pearls.*
πΈοΈ char
Kurt's my biggest, active account so here we go.
Fuck racism. Fuck it at all levels. Fuck your weird agendas, fuck trying to use narratives like 'society doesn't care' to hurt minorities, fuck your entire life if you think this is acceptable.
You desperately need therapy.
~π½