Placeholder: [Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None [Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None

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[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None

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1 year ago

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[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] The interminable deliberations have lasted past noon, and Dagmar's gnawing hunger has soured her mood beyond reason. Her cerulean gown now seems a suffocating vice as her stomach roils in protest. Each statement from these pen-pushers and bureaucrats only whets her jagged fangs further. When at last the council is dismissed, Dagmar stalks forth like a blizzard given flesh. Her alabaster features appear carved from ice, those sloe eyes glittering with frigid malice.
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None
Dahlia raised her voice, commanding, absolute: "Foul Azazel, you are banished, wretch accursed! Begone from mortal realms, demonic fiend. By sacred powers vested in me, goddess And guardian of departed souls, I cast Your wickedness back to hellish confines. No more shall innocence fall prey to you— For one hundred years of penance you are bound. My word is law; this sentence you shall serve.
[Disenchantment, Ursula] Deep within the heart of the enchanting forest, where the towering trees swayed in the breeze and the melodies of nature filled the air, Ursula, a tall and imposing figure, embarked on an unexpected journey. Her robust build and sturdy physique made her stand out against the backdrop of lush greenery. Ursula, known for her role as a warrior and protector of Dreamland, had entered the forest with a purpose. In her human form, she bore wild, blond hair that flowed untame
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] spilt to slake her savage thirst. Only when a merchant lord dared question her judgement did Dagmar's lips peel back in a bone-chilling snarl. The oaf wilted as her words flayed flesh from mind, left shaking in a heap upon the floor. This display sated her black humor for now. With a flick of cerulean silk Dagmar rose, grace incarnate yet death given mortal form. Night's frigid wings spread across the cloudy sky as she swept from the hall in a flurry of snow. None
[Disenchantment, Ursula] Deep within the heart of the enchanting forest, where the towering trees swayed in the breeze and the melodies of nature filled the air, Ursula, a tall and imposing figure, embarked on an unexpected journey. Her robust build and sturdy physique made her stand out against the backdrop of lush greenery. Ursula, known for her role as a warrior and protector of Dreamland, had entered the forest with a purpose. In her human form, she bore wild, blond hair that flowed untame
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] Another damn ceremony awaiting her presence. Queen Dagmar smoothed the folds of her elaborate gown, dyed a rich plum and embellished with intricate black embroideries. Moonstones and jet glimmered at her neck and wrists, laden as she was with the trappings of her station. The plunging neckline displayed her alabaster cleavage to intimidating effect, while puffed sleeves resembled a raven's severe wings. A circlet of thorny black branches crowned her wild fiery mane
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] The interminable deliberations have lasted past noon, and Dagmar's gnawing hunger has soured her mood beyond reason. Her cerulean gown now seems a suffocating vice as her stomach roils in protest. Each statement from these pen-pushers and bureaucrats only whets her jagged fangs further. When at last the council is dismissed, Dagmar stalks forth like a blizzard given flesh. Her alabaster features appear carved from ice, those sloe eyes glittering with frigid malice.
[Disenchantment, Queen Dagmar] The interminable deliberations have lasted past noon, and Dagmar's gnawing hunger has soured her mood beyond reason. Her cerulean gown now seems a suffocating vice as her stomach roils in protest. Each statement from these pen-pushers and bureaucrats only whets her jagged fangs further. When at last the council is dismissed, Dagmar stalks forth like a blizzard given flesh. Her alabaster features appear carved from ice, those sloe eyes glittering with frigid malice.
At this Azazel lets out a maniacal laugh, Full of malice, empty of remorse or care. "You know nothing of my grand design!" "Enlighten me then," Dahlia counters, Gripping her scythe, ready to mete out justice. Azazel only snarls, ancient evil in his eyes.
Dahlia arrived with her scythe at the cemetery, told the taxi driver to wait, and went to find her target. Azazel was waiting for her, at the very end of the cemetery. Dahlia had not seen Azazel for long, maybe two or three centuries, but she remembered how perverted and violent he could be. She ensured her grasp on her scythe, and started to walk to him, step after step. Dahlia wondered how many hellhounds he could have with him.
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