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# ¿ Aug 19, 2022 02:26 |
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:55 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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In.
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In and ![]()
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*snip*
Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:55 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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In.
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Oh, sorry. I only can type words.
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Thank you for the crits!
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:58 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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Hawklad posted:Crit for Many Beasts (Killer-of-Lawyers) Week 239 Thank you for the crit!
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:58 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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In with GAD.
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:59 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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In and ![]() Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 04:31 on May 17, 2017 |
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:59 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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In!![]()
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Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 03:56 on Jan 3, 2018 |
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Troubles Word Count: 387 My troubles began long ago. Nothing I do can save me from them. I was a soldier, long ago. I was pressed into service for the city. My cowardice did not save me. It only made me fight harder. When we were beset by bow and chariot on our first foray beyond, my cowardice cursed me to live, to fight like an animal in a pit. I was promoted to sergeant. Cursed by the gods to a long military career spent in fear of the next battle. Lying, sleepless in tents, hoping to the gods and praying to my family’s spirits that the cold flint of an arrow would finally take me. And release me from this wretched world. My troubles began long ago. I was retired, blessed by gods, and awarded by priest and king. I knew beer and the pleasures of flesh alike. I still did not sleep. I cried out at night, scaring my lovers who slept soundly, unafraid of the swirling spirits and death that curses this world. I drank beer and paid for the comforts of many people. I still knew no rest. I prayed for forgiveness and protection, sacrificed lambs and gold in temples. I sold my baubles and mementos of war. What good were they ever, awards from people up high, who sleep soundly each night in their homes as men die? My troubles began long ago. My mother was cursed with child. The child lived, and was born, she died, bleeding and discarded. I grew up, shouldering the work of the house, never knowing the soft bosom of my own mother. I ran from the farm, at various ages. Only to find life cruel and unlivable. I never made it, until I was pressed into service for war. Then I still found life cruel, and unlivable, and yet I persisted. My troubles began long ago. The primordial chaos of the sea angered the gods. So they sent one of their own to smash and kill the mother of all things. They twisted up her insides, made her ribs the vault of the sky, her tears the great rivers, and her blood the endless stars above. This world is cruel. It has been troubled since before man walked on it. It will be troubled long after this man leaves it.
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I will be posting my crits to this doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lYFPKch9RLo52enEp0ZZ--KXd_hLb_jjeCEU_UES7f0/edit?usp=sharing I'm doing them backwards, which is the order I read and judged in. Killer-of-Lawyers fucked around with this message at 07:51 on Jul 12, 2017 |
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# ¿ Aug 19, 2022 02:26 |
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In.
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