Forwarded from LUNACERS: SCRUM TO VICTORY!
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My warmest greetings to all of you, dear Lunaelys. Through this, I would like to announce that we are OPENING THE GATES FOR &TEAM PROTAYALS who wish to join us, the &Team-Lunacers paguyuban. There are not many requirements, ONLY ONE STEP. However, we do not forget to remind you to check our taken list first. If your muse does not exist or the slot is still available, it's your chance! So, apply your ticket now, buddies. But don't forget to send (
Greetings;
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My warmest greetings to all of you, dear Lunaelys. Through this, I would like to announce that we are OPENING THE GATES FOR &TEAM PROTAYALS who wish to join us, the &Team-Lunacers paguyuban. There are not many requirements, ONLY ONE STEP. However, we do not forget to remind you to check our taken list first. If your muse does not exist or the slot is still available, it's your chance! So, apply your ticket now, buddies. But don't forget to send (
herein; fullname as muse, with @username
) to @andteammbot and join us. Thank you for your attention and have a great day.Greetings;
LUNACERS
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“HERE COMES THE WOLVES!”
𖣠 … As they surge through the arena, hurling the orb with primal ferocity in the blood-charged nightball crucible, a spectral observer's gaze burns into the savage spectacle. Each player slices through space like…
“HERE COMES THE WOLVES!”
𖣠 … As they surge through the arena, hurling the orb with primal ferocity in the blood-charged nightball crucible, a spectral observer's gaze burns into the savage spectacle. Each player slices through space like…
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Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
Shall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.
Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
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Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
Underneath the epithet of the vicinity, and the wish that lies on the table that we mail to @OldenVeil, @Sjords, @MlNDWAVE, @TheWalst, @CaveOfLoughrey, for the commemorative fetes.
Shall the downpours that have poured and the flake of the sun that have been reaped become the confetti of the significant day. The scent of musk, the lane where the crowds gather—blood by blood, soul by soul, and palms by palms. They unfold altogether, we mouth the prayers, and triumph is all over the chamber. May there be a lantern awaits until the ménage is overfilled with nought yet the sempiternal exultation.
Sincerely, Musing of Recollection.
@Kheraeld, the Root of Solace.
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