Requiem Tarnished Heir, The Family of Willem.
A table full of food, a menu that took us way too long to pick from, and a niece who alternated between being the cutest dining buddy and the funniest partner-in-crime — that’s how Willem’s Umji and Greesacht’s Wonyoung dinner went. We talked, laughed, sipped…
sachis, tolooong hype aku dan aunty umjinya willems dooong
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Forwarded from OPEN GATE / SOLVREITH FAMILY. ⚔️
˙⟡ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬: 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧! ⚔️
˚˖𓍢 A gate has opened—not into darkness, but into a realm where bonds are forged. This rift doesn’t summon monsters, but calls to those who seek belonging and strength. Step through, and you’ll find not just a passage, but a beginning where strangers become allies, where unity is born, and where every step forward leads to growth and something greater.
⚔️— THE BALANCE KEEPERS. ⊹ ࣪ ˖
⤷ 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003 ִ ࣪𖤐
⚔️— THE ONES WHO DEFY LIMITS. ⊹ ࣪ ˖
⤷ 2004, 2005, 2006 ִ ࣪𖤐
⚔️— THE IMMORTAL LEGION. ⊹ ࣪ ˖
⤷ 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010 ִ ࣪𖤐
The gate opens only for those who answer its call. To enter is to embrace unyielding bonds and shared strength. Beyond it waits a circle where every soul belongs. The gate stands open, will you step through? ˎˊ˗
From the shadows, I step forward. I am (Ur name, @ username, known as (Ur Muse Name & Line). Every hunter walks their own path, but some destinies intertwine with greater legacies. With this, I mark my presence among you—ready to carve stories that echo beyond the gates.Before you step in, make sure to check the taken list first, just like hunters scout a dungeon before entering. Once the path is clear, you may leave your mark here @Solvreithsbot
Warm Regards,
Solvreith, The Hunter Family.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤVARNISHED OF MEMORY
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(17th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @TheDoucheron, @MertzlanFamilia, @TheHansley, @SylvanOth, and @sethlore who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(17th.) : Letter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhere the brush still breathes?
It hung where time moved slowly—dust drifting like whispered prayers, golden light flickering across its worn frame. The painting, old as memory, stared back not with eyes, but with something deeper, the ache of what once was. Brushstrokes, though cracked, still breathed with intention. And still, it spoke. To those who dared linger. To @TheDoucheron, @MertzlanFamilia, @TheHansley, @SylvanOth, and @sethlore who stood before it in reverence, their reflections caught within the canvas’s quiet ache. No one remembered the artist’s name. But the soul? The soul remained—trapped, blooming, eternal. Proof that some beauty outlives even the hands that made it. With endless gratitude to all who wandered here, where this splendid memory shall forever cradle every journey taken and every generous spirit shared—bathed beneath the moonlight of joyful minds.
Signed in light and longing,
@KinOfGreesacht
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