Post by Donovan Darko on Jul 7, 2010 15:55:00 GMT -5
And here my handsoe mug
In the end we're all just chalk lines on the concrete. Drawn, only to be washed away. For the time I've been given, I am what I am. Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. When you find that one person who connects you to the world, you become someone di
Ya know what Artix, fuck you. Fuck you and your Tea Ninja psychological mind transfer subliminal message thingy. I got a hair cut today, and it's really short I have maybe 3 inches of hair left, and I shaved my little goatee. Then I realized that you said something ta that effect a week or two back.
Post by Satine Purpureo on Jul 19, 2010 22:51:00 GMT -5
I promised this a while back. Me in my ginger wig for the musical I was in :S The hat on the bottom is a detective hat, the middle one belonged to a french exchange student, and the top was a detective hat again.
Seireitei is crumbling and the Gotei is a shell of its former self. Ravaged by the plague, the surviving Shinigami struggle to maintain the balance, but with so few of them left, the work is taxing and their fortress-city has fallen to neglect. Spread thin across all fronts, their diminished presence has been noted by friend and foe alike.
The Arrancar have rebuilt Las Noches and are rallying. The throne remains empty, but self-styled Espada have risen up from among them and are vying for control, each one endlessly testing the others’ weaknesses. Too evenly matched for any one of them to claim the crown, they bide their time, waiting for the opportune moment.
On Earth, all seems well—but there is a war being fought in the shadows as the mortals find themselves lacking the protection they once had and so sorely need. The Quincy, having realized the oppressive specter of the Shinigami is no more, are flourishing, and are fighting the Hollow-breeds with renewed vigor.