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 Your Character(s) Story

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Joanna Banana
Penguin Krewe
Penguin Krewe
avatar

“We see the world, not as it is, but as we are - or, as we are conditioned to see it.”

Bruce
Jean Green.7208
JoannaBanana#0602

Character(s) name(s) : Joanna Banana, Jack Septic Eye Two, Jennifer Break, Keirra Shepherd, Insecure Annie, Czerwony Kapturek, Learie, Lexa Yumi Caroline, Arwen The Achangel, Patrick The Santa


PostSubject: Your Character(s) Story   Sat 02 Dec 2017, 18:26

Merry Christmas, Homies! Soldier Baby 5 Too soon? Cute Rabbit 4


I have an honor to introduce you today to yet another of our pre-events for the Christmas Party, which is incoming on 17 December! ... but before you'll start describing your character(s) make sure to be familiar with our Secret Quaggan event (here)! You have time until 6 December in order to register for that!


Don't miss your chance for a Christmas present! Gold Monkey 2


Now once you've sent your account name and your creative letter for Santa/Secret Quaggan to nininivek on Discord, then you just had perfect training for event, that I'm about to tell you about, which is called (very creatively): "Your Character(s) Story"! Creativity time goes on! Task is simple. Write your character(s) story and win:


1st place - 100g
2nd place - 50g
3rd place - 20g


RULES:


--1--
Creativity is the key.

--2--
Describing more than one character allowed, but not necessary - you won't be scored by the amount of text, only by how cool it is.

--3--
Post your story/stories in one message in this topic. One post per person. First one posted by you will be scored.

--4--
You have time to edit it, if you'd like to, as many times as you feel the need, until Christmas Party (17 December) when we'll read them and decide on winners.

--5--
Bonus points for including why your character(s) would want to (or would hate) to apply to Banana Academy - a school for wanna-be-heroes, which is teaching not just all sorts of important theory knowledge, but also putting a lot of time into training students to become master's in chosen by them professions, including necromancy, illusions, martial arts or even cooking, weapon crafting, scribing, or mounts care and riding.

______Located deep in the Crystal Desert and never really advertising itself much, the Academy still holds a prestigious reputation and every year lots of travelers, coming from across the whole Tyria, are applying to learn all necessary skills to become great. That's not only because of many famous heroes leaving Academy's walls, but it's also because of legends about the commander, who founded the Banana Academy - they say it was "a clever asura with passion to educate and with a life-time mission to prove that stories about legendary creatures - horse, duck, penguin and a squirrel - are in fact true"... and that she killed a god or something like that.
______Not many students care these days about initial missions of their Krewes - when accepting new students the school is selecting them into one of 4 krewes named after legendary creatures allegedly living somewhere (or somewhen) in Tyria. First ever students were very actively learning to prepare themselves for the travels and challenges that would await for them during their research when searching for the creatures. Each Krewe were focused on their own creature. That has changed.
______In time, from not entirely known reasons, professors put aside the creatures legends, even despite of Horse Krewe making big progress on their missions. These days it seems like the mission of the Academy is to simply teach as many individuals to become strong and heroic, starting with their first test - travel the world to reach Academy's walls. New students are now usually coming to Academy for many different private reasons - avenging their families, protecting their homelands or conquering their dreams about fame and glory.



--6--
Praise Daan aka The Potato Lord for being an idea giver for this event
and most of all for being our "I'm rich, you know" sponsor.
Gold Monkey 5



That's it! Good luck and have fun! Monkey Girl 2


”Uwierzyłam, że nas uratujesz ciociu Lyo! I nadal w to wierzę! Nigdy nie przestałam w ciebie wierzyć!”
- Drein Askarioth, A.Z.A.R.A. PBF

”you make gw2 cooler you know Wink
- JP, Golden Broods

”Its never a waste of time if you believe what you do is right”
- John, Drama Kingdom Virus

”something something rush point b”
- Raine, The Vortex Club

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Bradies
Squirrel Krewe
Squirrel Krewe
avatar

Buy my goddamn gems.

Richard
Bradies
Bradies

Character(s) name(s) : Bradies, Emerelle Achente, Uruk Harry, Thespianage, Misspector Gadget, Duty in Death, Jiggleberries, Feline Passions, Scipio Serpens


PostSubject: Re: Your Character(s) Story   Sun 03 Dec 2017, 01:48

The Reach

For some, stories are merely the tools with which a fool might satisfy their appetite for intrigue. To others, they represent harmless absurdity useful for rousing a child to action. For my part, I considered them a device to quiet a demanding crowd, no more than simple absurdity. But in that lay my folly, for the true tale behind any story, lies not in what is seen or heard but instead in the sins that it can mask.

In honesty, my life was plain, unimportant to most. I endured a childhood in the squalor of the Reach's Commons with little to survive on day to day. As far as any passing noble was concerned, I was not worthy of note. But I thought differently.

Divinity's Reach was designed like the spokes of a wheel, each district representative of a deity. But to me the city was divided not in the name of the gods, but in the name of pride. Two tiered, the city rose towards it's richly adorned interior, within which the nobles resided. It was built high - I thought - to tower over the common folk, a symbol of the insurmountable divisions between us. In contrast, the streets where I lived were dismal, shadowed over by the towering walls that kept the nobles safe, but snuffed out what little light and air my insignificant corner of the city might otherwise have permitted me.

With each passing day I resented ever more, the inequalities that I observed and the disapproval with which I was met. I considered myself a kinder soul than any other, ruthless when hunger demanded but dedicated in my morality. My own charitable deeds grew large in my mind: a crust to a battered hound, a haggard tail wagged in reward; a rat left on a window sill, enough perhaps to thicken a widow's broth. As far as I was concerned I was a saviour to that place, a light in the darkness, acting where others would not. Gradually, perhaps due in part to my inflated sense of morality and self-worth a sickness began to grow in my heart. I developed a hatred for those living about me, nobles at first, and then others by association. Those who ignored or persecuted me, regardless of race or creed, became pariahs, and as I grew, so also did my aversion for all but the most downtrodden of individuals.

With my growth into a young man came the arrival of the carnival troop. The Commons was transformed, and so too I thought, was my conflicted mind. I was still growing when I joined the theatre, but by the age of 20 I was a lead performer, nightly taking centre-stage to perform to enchanted crowds. The stage upon which I acted was sprawling, some twenty foot in breadth atop a mock drawbridge which rolled down towards the audience. Behind the stage rose false parapets and spires, turning the theatre into a fanciful castle. Adorning each wall were gaudy knights riding in glee to Dwayna knows where. But despite the gay abandon of the setting, my mind dwelled on darker matters, I thought only of a production to still the mob and quiet the night, a 'tragedy' perhaps, something to chill the heart.



On a busy night during those warm summers we'd make enough copper from the packed crowds to visit The Busted Flagon. It was a poor excuse for a bar but made for far better drinking than our own taproom - which was aptly named 'The Dead End'. I didn't care much for the the alcohol but the company was good and none more so than the Innkeeper's daughter. She had chestnut hair, a confident sway and looks that could charm the gods themselves. On that warm night when I first saw her, I fell for her, and she in turn for me. Despite it all however, it was her virtue that I admired the most. She seemed to represent all that I so bitterly wished for myself; and each night, as she caressed the floor of the bar, she transformed lust into respect and jealousy into admiration.



As the days grew short I found myself visiting The Flagon more and more and when the wiles of her father would allow, we would slip upstairs to an unused chamber and share a night of passion and laughter. The room which served us best and most frequently was reserved for nobles but was often empty, kept more for insurance than actual need. It was spacious but richly decorated with woven carpets and bespoke furniture. At the far end of the room there was a large fireplace that would be stoked on cold nights, above which a painting of an Elonian temple graced the bare stone wall.



That autumn I finished writing my tragedy and without second thought, cast the innkeeper's daughter as my  ill fated, star-crossed lover. Come Wintersday we performed our debut and a hush fell soft upon the crowd as we played our tragic role. So intense was the focus of the audience on that first night, that upon taking our bows, a griffon feather could have been heard to fall. As the curtain dropped, it seemed a Mesmer's spell had befallen the crowd but when at last the applause arrived it thundered well into the night.

That same evening I hung back to watch the crowds disperse. Nobles and common folk alike had come to see the play and I felt a pang of regret, as I scowled from behind the curtain, watching the audience subside. Those that I despised above all should never be allowed pride of place at a production of my own creation, but nothing could be done about it short of involving the city guard. Revulsion filled me as I considered the fact that I was little more than an accomplice to those I had once scorned.

I wanted nothing more than to share my lover's bed that night and didn't wait long to follow her back to the Inn. Straining to catch sight of her, I pushed through the crowds waiting to congratulate me on the success of my opening night. I refused to share in their eager revelry and soon slipped upstairs to our room.

Silently, I opened the door. I was wide awake but exhausted, elated but conflicted. But before I could turn the corner I heard a gasp, and a voice drawling on in a clawing tone "...not here now though is he? It's just you and me and nobody left to hear us." A noble! The room that had so often been empty was not this night and my lover was tainted. I felt as though I had been hit around the head by a sledgehammer and staggering, I backed out to the cold, curved stairwell and slid down the wall to the icy steps. The last of my strength left me and emotions swirled in my bitter head.

And now indeed had I become wretched, lost beyond the veil, my own humanity eclipsed by dark thoughts. Weighted beneath the pressure of a broken mentality I emerged into the night a new man, dedicated and driven in my desire to see the nobility crushed. Those that saw me leave tried to call out towards me, but felt my name stutter and freeze within their throats as they caught sight of my dispassionate visage. From that moment on and with each passing day I put on an act, and performed it to perfection. I was charming and personable, a talented thespian and one who's company even nobles might crave. But I sought after revenge and wove myself into their perfect world. I used my charm and influence to glean secrets and used those in turn to garner favours, and before the year was out I was one of them; gifted performer to the nobility, betrayer of the common folk.

The Innkeeper's daughter remained by my side though our relationship was not the same. In public we were a doting couple, dutiful and kind. But we both knew that our relationship harboured a bitter and fetid core, hidden just behind our professional veneer. She knew I had heard them that night, or at least she sensed the shift in my mood, but necessity kept our work separate and one night in the Season of the Collosus (Winter) I was approached by a member of the Queen's guard. For my 'success' we were to perform to Queen Jennah. She was the most illustrious actor in all of the Upper City - the nobles' gilded gutter of the Reach - and with her I knew, would be every courtier and person of influence that Divinity's Reach had to offer; a true carnival of arrogance. And my heart soared, as revenge crystallised in my mind, finally within grasp.

On the eve of that performance - my finest masquerade - the sun set with a frosty bite. My lover shivered at the night's arrival and commented that the nobles were clearly no less immune to the seasons than we. I scowled at that but welcomed the weather, for it would calm my nerves and make my flush of adrenaline appear nothing more than a cold night's chill. We were to perform in the middle of the Central Plaza in the Upper City. And with those royal gardens as our stage, we would act beneath open skies, above us: the planets, stars, and two moons; with our audience amassed outside the Chamber of Ministers.



A lavishly dressed crowd was assembling fast, far larger than any I had performed to in the past, and once again I resented them. Wrapped warm in their furs and kept safe by their wealth, they made me feel but an outsider whilst I, plainly dressed in scarlet trousers and a leather jerkin, scanned the crowd looking for the man who had stolen my last scraps of compassion.

"The Queen approaches, are you ready to perform?" asked a guard of me. So wrapped up was I in my delusions that I had not seen him approach and it took me a shocked moment to recover my composure. "Absolutely, I'll round up the cast." I replied, my tone giving my nerves away more than I would have liked.

The Queen arrived to the sound of trumpets and deafening applause. Clearly she was idolised by these noble pigs, and where their favour was found, so too was my contempt. As she approached, radiant in her white dress I noticed her bare feet and wondered what kind of fool leaves marbled halls without shoes on, in the middle of winter. The crowds parted and she took pride of place atop a specially erected platform. As she settled herself into her throne - closer to a padded armchair in honour of the occasion - the crowd fell quiet, eagerly anticipating the production they had heard so much about. And we were breathtaking.

Never had a story been more thrilling, it's twists and turns stunning in their brilliance. My tragedy wove a tale of love, overshadowed by a darker lust, greed and betrayal. The audience reacted as one, gripped in anticipation of the plot. That night I satisfied their appetite for intrigue and like children they responded to my every whim. When it was required of them they gasped, and when I desired it they cried. I was a puppeteer, and like rag dolls they danced as I adorned my lies with absurdity.

As the final scene approached there was a stillness that belied the number of people present. My 'lover', the Innkeeper's Daughter, had given her all to the drama and the audience had drunk deeply in her charm. As she lay down on the stage, exhausted both in reality and make believe, I approached for the finale. By this point I was more than acting, I was living each word, each step I took upon that stage. And with tears choking my eyes I cried out in agony to the audience and threw myself down upon her, plunging a dagger deep into her heart. Her eyes opened in shock before rolling upwards as she passed into the Mists. The audience froze, with a sharp intake of breath and a woman wailed, a lone shriek piercing the silence, but the illusion of the drama that I had spun held tight, and nobody moved. Lifting my lover into my arms I screamed out to Dwayna and then, leaving her lifeless in front of a thousand unwitting eyes, staggered off stage as though drunk.

Backstage, I moved quickly to my dressing quarters, and with entranced eyes following my every move, grabbed my cloak and left in sudden determination. As I made my way through the deserted outer gardens I heard rapturous applause explode, cheers of a magnitude greater than those that had greeted the queen. The dome of the Central Plaza reverberated with noise, but some moments later a shout was heard above all others. Silence fell, the queen was on her feet, orders were shouted and a roar began to erupt behind me as though the very hounds of Balthazar were on my heels. I threw my cloak over my head and shoulders and descended once more to the commons, disappearing into the crowds.



Dwayna the goddess of healing, blessed me when I was young.
Though trouble may follow me I overcome it with charm.

I grew up among the common folk and I value my honour. I've made something of myself and the only thing I regret is that I never searched for my true parents.

I'm an expert at subtlety and intrigue. A drawn hood lets me blend into the crowd.

This is my story.

Signed:
x Thespianage

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Bradies
Squirrel Krewe
Squirrel Krewe
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Buy my goddamn gems.

Richard
Bradies
Bradies

Character(s) name(s) : Bradies, Emerelle Achente, Uruk Harry, Thespianage, Misspector Gadget, Duty in Death, Jiggleberries, Feline Passions, Scipio Serpens


PostSubject: Re: Your Character(s) Story   Thu 07 Dec 2017, 18:40

DON'T DO IT REBECCA... YOUR STORY IS TOO GOOD. A SECRET BEST KEPT SAFE UNTIL THE 18th! Although I do want to read it...
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JustSpiffin
Duck Krewe
Duck Krewe
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Bex
Spiffin.7216
Lady Spifferton #5153

Character(s) name(s) : Killeen The Revborn
Ragnar Mistfallen
Jamie Earthbound
Cyana Duskborn
Mira Shadowkeeper
Professor Snaffy
Cynder Bloodbound
The Spiffineer
Khal Stoneblood


PostSubject: Re: Your Character(s) Story   Sat 09 Dec 2017, 00:01

A Bitter Taste

Part I

Sylvari do not eat.

It's quite strange, when you think about it. Are we incapable of consuming food? No, we have digestive enzymes capable of drawing nutrients from food. Can we not taste? No, we have a heightened sense of taste exceeding all other races (especially the norn,who's objective of food consumption seems to be speed and quantity rather than taste). There is no part of the Sylavi that hinders us from eating.

The reason simply is that no one had thought to.

We have a gathering - near the pools by the Vigil Shelter in The Grove - with others on our day of awakening. The majority of those are ones who have awakened the same day, along with one or two of the Firstborn. We gather to discuss fragments of what we saw in our Dream, and - along with guidance from the Firstborn - discover our purpose. My gathering was large, and as I took my place among my brothers and sisters, I strained to hear though the continuous babble of voices any parts of Dreams that might resemble my own. As questions paired themselves with answers, the chatter that filled my ears started to fade, until I found myself as one of the few remaining Sylvari, one of the fewer that remained alone, and seemed to be the only one who had found no answers to my questions at all.

Caithe - one of the Firstborn who resided nearby - approached me. My legs trembled, and I felt my skin begin to glow and burn. I now know this to be called "embarressment", but this being unknown to me in my early stages of awakening, I shook all the more, afraid that the Pale Tree was somehow punishing me for having not found my anwers already. Caithe smiled knowingly,
"Hush, little one. I can see you are still trying to find your purpose. Please, ask me your questions, and I will do my best to put your mind at rest."
I hesistated, and her eyes studied me expectantly. In a panic I blurted:
"Why do Sylvari not eat?"
Her eyes widened , her mouth twisted, trembled, and then she burst into a peal of laughter.
"Why do we not eat? Little one, what ever are you talking about? I come to ask you about your Dream, and you ask such a trifling question as this? Would you care to explain your reasoning behind this?"
My skin burned fiercer as I realised that she did not take me seriously. In a hurried voice I explained as best as I could:
"Caithe, that was my Dream. I Dreamed of many different things, things that the Pale Tree wishes all Sylvari's to know, but the question followed me like a shadow. I felt a need to know - even more than that, I felt a need to change it. It seems foolish now, with everyone else dreaming of fighting monsters or forging weapons. All I was giving was a silly question." I heaved a heavy sigh as I finished and hung my head.

Caithe considered a moment, then squeezed my arm. "If the Pale Tree offered this information to you," she exclaimed. "It is your purpose. I have heard - in whispers - of a place that may be of interest to you. It is an old Academy surrounded by branded banana trees, deep in the Crystal Desert, that offers training to those who seek it. As far as I know, no Sylvari has ever attended it: we have all our training for tailors, armoursmiths, jewelers etc right here in the Grove. But you, little one, you are here to bring to us what no one has considered before. I see it now. This is the answer I give to you: you must journey to the Banana Academy." She smiled at me once more, turned, and was gone.

I stood motionless after she left, drinking in what she had told me. Could it be done? I had been awake only since Dusk that same day, and already I was tasked with such a quest? Alone? It couldn't be done, it simply couldn't. I was still deep in thought when a slight tap on my shoulder brought me back to the present. Behind my stood a slight-figured, sunset-skinned sylvari, who stood fiddling with an unruly forest-green headleaf. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "But I heard you talking to Caithe about why sylvari don't eat, and I was wondering -"
"Please," I interrupted. "I know it sounds foolish. I don't want to be questioned about it: I hardly undestand it myself."
She hesitated. "I was just wondering," she continued slowly. "If you saw a large black cauldron in your dream, with sylvari gathered around it and...and eating?"
I jerked away from her in shock. "How do you know that?!" I hissed.
"I...I saw it in my Dream. I wasn't told everything that you were, I am sure of it. But I saw you in my dream as well, you were there, by the cauldron, beckoning me over. I feel as though - wherever you are going - I 'm... I'm meant to follow you."
I considered this for a moment. It seemed hardly a moment ago that I was clueless as to my purpose, and now there was another who shared it?
"I'm Cyana." I said finally.
"I'm Bhia."
"Bhia....I believe you're coming with me."

Part II

I will not bore you, reader, with the long and laborious journey that Bhia and I endured in our quest to find the fabled Banana Academy. I will likewise not burden you with the details of the many years of study that the two of us embarked on upon our arrival. Therefore, I shall summarize thse events as briefly as I am able:

Upon finding the Banana Academy, we were almost immediately told to leave. Sylvari had never attended the academy, the receptionist had said, and they were not going to begin now. However, our journey had been long and gruelling, and we were too determined to turn back when we had already come so far. We camped for three days unde a glistening purple branded banana tree, approaching the Academy doors every so often and begging to be admitted. We felt our hope begin to fade on the fourth morning when we approached the door, when instead of the usual human receptionist, we were greeted by a funny little furry creature with bright yellow hair. She didn't say anything, merely watched us as we tried to conceal our surprise. I was the first to speak up:
"I am Cyana, and this is Bhia," I began boldly. "We are here because of our Dream - I mean, it is something that we have before the Pale Tree-"
"Don't worry, my lovely little salad. I know what Dreams are. And you are here because your Dream wishes you to learn something that cannot be found in the Grove, or Caledon forest? You Slyvari have made...reasonable progress in terms of education, the Grove has all the training you might need, so why would you - Aha!" She clapped her hands together gleefully. "You want to learn to be a chef! That is it! I am right! I am so right! ....Right?"
"I think so," I replied, taken aback. " If it is about making food , then yes, we both want to learn to ...to chef."
"Oh wonderful, wonderful! We have never had Sylvari in the academy you know. You may know me as J, I am the owner of the Academy."
Bhia and I stood there, unsure of what to do.
"Well come on then, don't just stand there! Cheffing 101 is in room 415 at dusk. You'll both be in the Duck chambers, rooms 101 and 102," she concluded, pushing two large iron keys into my hand.

With that, we were members of the Banana Academy.


Part III

Our studies spanned over several years. To someone accustomed to culinary arts, this may seem like
a rediculous amount of time, but we were up against more than just the proffesion itself: we faced the challenge of experimenting with how we as a race responded to what we consumed. On our second day in the academy, Bhia and I had descended into the Musa Sapientum Fixa Bibliothece (an ancient title, simply meaning 'Banana Library'), in search of any possible research regarding Sylvari and food consumption. It was as I had suspected: nothing. After hours of poring through tomes and research papers - reading until our eyes ached and we were near intoxicated from the smell of ink - we returned empty handed. From then on, we were exploring the uknown.

After these years, we returned to the Grove.

When we arrived and set about constructing Chef's quarters among the other crafters, we were met with hostility. We appeared - to them at least - to have have wasted our years of study. We ignored the glares from the other crafters as best we could as we assembled our station . It was humble (we didn't have the materials to replicate the grandeur that one can see in Divinity's Reach or Rata Sum), but it was ours. Once completed , we prepared a selection of simple foods for passing brothers and sisters to try. We waited in silence with the meager spread before us, hoping - it seemed in vain - to catch the attention of others.

At first, nothing.

Hours passed. No one gave so much as a glance in our direction. Our confidence in our purpose faltered.

Then, a voice.

"Can I try some?"

Bhia and I turned simultaneously from the cooking pot. Caithe stood before us, looking at the food expectantly. I nodded quickly, and she lifted a piece of banana bread to her lips. She paused a moment, then took a small bite. Then another. She grinned.
"This...this is wonderdul! Absolutely wonderful! Hello there,!" she called to a group of passerby. "Come try this! You won't believe how good it is!"
The group approached. Soon, another.

Samples were shared, tried, tasted.

More food was begged for.

A lifelong question was answered:
Sylari can eat. And from this moment, they did.

- Cyana Duskborn.


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Joanna Banana
Penguin Krewe
Penguin Krewe
avatar

“We see the world, not as it is, but as we are - or, as we are conditioned to see it.”

Bruce
Jean Green.7208
JoannaBanana#0602

Character(s) name(s) : Joanna Banana, Jack Septic Eye Two, Jennifer Break, Keirra Shepherd, Insecure Annie, Czerwony Kapturek, Learie, Lexa Yumi Caroline, Arwen The Achangel, Patrick The Santa


PostSubject: Re: Your Character(s) Story   Sat 09 Dec 2017, 04:15

I can't express how much I love this. No, but seriously: I can't, cause if I would, then people could start thinking they don't stand a chance and won't submit their stories!
Crazy Rabbit 29

Oopsie, I did it already, so here's more of my expressions (such an emotional ride):

Soldier Baby 14 Crazy Rabbit 31 Onion Head 15 Soldier Baby 6 Soldier Baby 12 Soldier Baby 7 Soldier Baby 5 Soldier Baby 8 Sylvari 5 Sylvari 6 Mouse Girl 2  

I could say a lot about my favorite details of the story, but maybe after the competition. Dancing Banana

Don't worry, guys, we're gonna think of some fancy pointing system that won't miss democratic votes next to professional judging.
Onion Head 1

Rules wrote:
--4--
You have time to edit it, if you'd like to, as many times as you feel the need, until Christmas Party (17 December) when we'll read them and decide on winners.

It hasn't been explicitly said that I'm gonna judge this on my own (even tho Daan has been asking me to be the judge since the first day he came out with this event idea)! I thought I'll just do it, but hell no - this got way too personal, you're playing on my emotions!
Onion Head 6

(10/10 story, Bex) Onion Head 14

Keep going, guys, bring us more stories! Your creativity is top-notch, I wanna see more! Onion Head 9
... and the 100 gold is still in your reach, the deciding vote won't be just up to me. Red Fox 10


”Uwierzyłam, że nas uratujesz ciociu Lyo! I nadal w to wierzę! Nigdy nie przestałam w ciebie wierzyć!”
- Drein Askarioth, A.Z.A.R.A. PBF

”you make gw2 cooler you know Wink
- JP, Golden Broods

”Its never a waste of time if you believe what you do is right”
- John, Drama Kingdom Virus

”something something rush point b”
- Raine, The Vortex Club

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View user profile https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC68tV8mDl7y3crldQuxlETQ https://www.facebook.com/Lyoko.Azara https://twitter.com/@youtookmybanana amaryl2
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