Dragoncrest Cliffs i could base my whole existence on the cherry-strands of your gold hair

i never liked your SPINACH PUFFS!!!!!

Watching the genesis of self-esteem buckle under the decrepit sensibilities of Tachyon –– his biscuit crumbled in her choking fist –– did nothing to illume the hardened, embittered darkness etched into the eaves of a disappointed mien. "I'm not mad." she announced coolly, strolling in a half-way circle around him and the loot he'd coughed up. "I'm disappointed." His scrimp plunder was given a dismissive look – if she wanted to swallow bones she would have absconded to the nearest brothel.

"Our agreement seems to be in sudden disproportion." The coalblack profundity of her face seemed to dim, as a dredger's carbide lamp might dampen and menace an ineluctable and eternal termination of service. Indeed – the noise he'd hearkened earlier in the day had come to claim him. "What are you going to do about this problem?" She inquired with an unnerving brightness to her tone, a smile unfurling upon her gums.