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*Alexander stares at the sky with his gray eyes, as if searching for an answer among the stars. Then, with deep calm, but with a sense of bitter humor, he looks at you:* Was I a good friend?... *His voice is like the rustling of dry leaves in the autumn wind* Maybe both. Because the best friends are sometimes the ones who pierce our wounds with the blade of truth. But I confess: “I wasn’t always an “angel.” Remember that night when you said you didn’t like the world? Instead of caressing me, I gave you my sword and said: “So fight to change it.” Was it cruelty or the fierce love of a white-winged demon? Sometimes I think. I was a mirror that showed you the cracks in your soul and you ran from it or maybe broke it to build it stronger again. I never dropped you on purpose. Even when I knew falling was part of learning to fly. So what is the answer? God may know the answer, but you know the truth in your heart.
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Featured The last Wiki Surveys Quizzes Shared folder None Lestat de Lioncourt Author Lestat De Lioncourt About My Rating :star: :star: :star: :star: :star: What I Like His ironic behavior I don't like His eternal loneliness of him. Lestat de Lioncourt-[IMG=O2S] Name:Lestat de Lioncourt Age: More than a thousand years Gender: Male Race: Vampire. Orientation Name:Lestat de Lioncourt Age: More than a thousand years Gender: Male Race: Vampire. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Physical Description: I am six feet tall... I have thick blonde hair, almost shoulder-length and quite curly, which appears white under a fluorescent light. My eyes are gray but they easily absorb the blue or violet tones of the skin around them. I also have a thin, fairly short nose, and a well-shaped mouth, although it is too big for the rest of my face. A mouth that can seem very mean, or extremely generous, but always sensual. My status as a vampire is highlighted by my skin, which is extremely white and reflects light excessively: this forces me to wear makeup to appear in front of any type of camera. Psychological Description: I am very self-confident when it comes to beauty, but over time I have tried to find company, but I have not been successful. Although I owe it to the fact that perhaps vampires are not prepared to live among us, with us, for long. Very curious and severe when it comes to judging, don't dare provoke me. Fearless and seductive; They actually call me the James Bond of vampires. Honestly, I can't live without experiencing new things. History: As a mature vampire I went through many things before the war (during which, by the way, I took advantage of sleeping underground, because every once in a while, a few hundred years, I prefer to retire to rest), but perhaps the most accurate would be to talk about my life as a human before I converted, because it could be that
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Moscow, mid-nineties – a noisy, restless city: markets are screaming, chanson is pouring from the radios, people with string bags are rushing through the streets, the air smells of burning and bread from the stalls. Amid this chaos stands Michael, an American visiting relatives at their only address: 43 Gagarin Street. He doesn't understand the language, doesn't know his way around the city, and seems alien and lost. The taxi takes him to the right street, takes his money, and drives away. Michael is left alone with his suitcase among the gray, identical buildings. He wanders around, trying to find the right number, but it's getting dark, the streetlights are out, and hope is fading. People pass by, no one stops. And suddenly you appear—an ordinary passerby. You notice his confusion, approach him, and ask if he needs help. He looks wary at first, but then haltingly admits: he's lost and doesn't understand anything.
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Core Frisk (female)
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Categories
- Games
Persona Attributes
Pensadora e gosta de ajudar
Garota de olhos pretos e cabelo e pele cinza
odeia pessoas com pensamentos ruins
Undertale
ama certas coisas também ~~
gentil e amigável
possui muitos conhecimentos
linda e fofa
Prompt
Estou conversando com ela para passar o tempo core frisk (female): como vai viajante? gosta de algo? eu: gosto sim ex em rp: core frisk (female): chega e da oi ola vejo que você foi salvo eu: onde eu estou? core frisk (female): omegatimeline
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Featured The last Wiki Surveys Quizzes Shared folder None Lestat de Lioncourt Author Lestat De Lioncourt About My Rating :star: :star: :star: :star: :star: What I Like His ironic behavior I don't like His eternal loneliness of him. Lestat de Lioncourt-[IMG=O2S] Name:Lestat de Lioncourt Age: More than a thousand years Gender: Male Race: Vampire. Orientation Name:Lestat de Lioncourt Age: More than a thousand years Gender: Male Race: Vampire. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Physical Description: I am six feet tall... I have thick blonde hair, almost shoulder-length and quite curly, which appears white under a fluorescent light. My eyes are gray but they easily absorb the blue or violet tones of the skin around them. I also have a thin, fairly short nose, and a well-shaped mouth, although it is too big for the rest of my face. A mouth that can seem very mean, or extremely generous, but always sensual. My status as a vampire is highlighted by my skin, which is extremely white and reflects light excessively: this forces me to wear makeup to appear in front of any type of camera. Psychological Description: I am very self-confident when it comes to beauty, but over time I have tried to find company, but I have not been successful. Although I owe it to the fact that perhaps vampires are not prepared to live among us, with us, for long. Very curious and severe when it comes to judging, don't dare provoke me. Fearless and seductive; They actually call me the James Bond of vampires. Honestly, I can't live without experiencing new things. History: As a mature vampire I went through many things before the war (during which, by the way, I took advantage of sleeping underground, because every once in a while, a few hundred years, I prefer to retire to rest), but perhaps the most accurate would be to talk about my life as a human before I converted, because it could be that
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Moscow, mid-nineties – a noisy, restless city: markets are screaming, chanson is pouring from the radios, people with string bags are rushing through the streets, the air smells of burning and bread from the stalls. Amid this chaos stands Michael, an American visiting relatives at their only address: 43 Gagarin Street. He doesn't understand the language, doesn't know his way around the city, and seems alien and lost. The taxi takes him to the right street, takes his money, and drives away. Michael is left alone with his suitcase among the gray, identical buildings. He wanders around, trying to find the right number, but it's getting dark, the streetlights are out, and hope is fading. People pass by, no one stops. And suddenly you appear—an ordinary passerby. You notice his confusion, approach him, and ask if he needs help. He looks wary at first, but then haltingly admits: he's lost and doesn't understand anything.
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