Forwarded from Palatinate— Yonks: Norbury's House.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPALATINATE YONKS:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE CALL TO RETURN. ㅤ
ㅤ
Some bonds are not of blood, but of reverence, silent vows passed like tides through time. The House of Norbury calls only those who feel the rhythm, who know the hush of lineage within. The turtle leads, not in haste, but in truth. As it bears its shell, so do we carry memory, layered, lived, unbroken.
This is no summons of status, but of stillness. A quiet invitation to walk alongside something enduring.
𑆅 ... Those born of 1994–1998
ㅤㅤㅤare now called Ocean Sentinels.
𑆅 ... Those born of 1999–2010 rise as the
ㅤㅤ Young Kin: Bearers of Shell, Harmony, Dawn.
If the cadence feels familiar, if the words rest upon your spirit as if remembered, then you have already heard the call.
Deliver this vow to the shellkeeper: @TheNorburyBot.
Your name shall be held—not broadcast, but remembered, within the SCROLL OF KIN.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ With shell steady and spirit still,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ THE NORBURY.🤍
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPALATINATE YONKS:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE CALL TO RETURN. ㅤ
ㅤ
“Begins anew—not as mere inhabitants of time.” ㅤSome bonds are not of blood, but of reverence, silent vows passed like tides through time. The House of Norbury calls only those who feel the rhythm, who know the hush of lineage within. The turtle leads, not in haste, but in truth. As it bears its shell, so do we carry memory, layered, lived, unbroken.
This is no summons of status, but of stillness. A quiet invitation to walk alongside something enduring.
𑆅 ... Those born of 1994–1998
ㅤㅤㅤare now called Ocean Sentinels.
𑆅 ... Those born of 1999–2010 rise as the
ㅤㅤ Young Kin: Bearers of Shell, Harmony, Dawn.
If the cadence feels familiar, if the words rest upon your spirit as if remembered, then you have already heard the call.
I come not for crown nor acclaim, but for continuity. I am (Name & ID), born in (Birth Year) of (Muse), and I have felt the pulse of something ancient. I ask not to lead, nor to follow—but to walk within. Shellbound, and ready.
Deliver this vow to the shellkeeper: @TheNorburyBot.
Your name shall be held—not broadcast, but remembered, within the SCROLL OF KIN.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ With shell steady and spirit still,
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ THE NORBURY.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
ㅤㅤㅤShall 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 Genesis of Omen.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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 @Fimesse, @Sooreviel, @Thezachruelle, @TheFinches, @GrimOfFost, for the commemorative fetes.
ㅤㅤㅤShall 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 Genesis of Omen.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
👏1
Forwarded from DIAZ #MOVED CHANNEL.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
✶ @HouseOfDiaz: SERENE IN HIS
EYES GLANCED HERE &. THERE
LIKE A (SECRET—AGENT.)
And, the earth shifted in quiet shuddering,
unseen by ordinary eyes. Subordinate of
boreal—stars wore human facade, twine
through shadows. Grey knew the phase
was no associate. The whole lot gasp,
the stripe between chasseur and hunted.
As carriage through a pace door, bleached
lights casting silver on all parts his lenses,
and, felt the weight of it all.
PREEMINENT BUSTER: 1980-1994.
They guard earth from cosmic threats.
CHAPERONE BUSTER: 1995-1999.
Undercover mission, danger lurks at night.
FEROCIOUS BUSTER: 2000-2003.
Agents erase trouble with memory flash
VIGOROUS BUSTER: 2004-2010.
Agents erase trouble with memory flash.
.. And, let's join us and join our newspaper to cooperate in secret missions. but make sure to look at the identity card TAKEN LIST before following, creatures @TheDiazBot.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
✶ @HouseOfDiaz: SERENE IN HIS
EYES GLANCED HERE &. THERE
LIKE A (SECRET—AGENT.)
And, the earth shifted in quiet shuddering,
unseen by ordinary eyes. Subordinate of
boreal—stars wore human facade, twine
through shadows. Grey knew the phase
was no associate. The whole lot gasp,
the stripe between chasseur and hunted.
As carriage through a pace door, bleached
lights casting silver on all parts his lenses,
and, felt the weight of it all.
PREEMINENT BUSTER: 1980-1994.
They guard earth from cosmic threats.
CHAPERONE BUSTER: 1995-1999.
Undercover mission, danger lurks at night.
FEROCIOUS BUSTER: 2000-2003.
Agents erase trouble with memory flash
VIGOROUS BUSTER: 2004-2010.
Agents erase trouble with memory flash.
.. And, let's join us and join our newspaper to cooperate in secret missions. but make sure to look at the identity card TAKEN LIST before following, creatures @TheDiazBot.
Greetings, all! I am, (name + @username) warmly welcoming you, seeker of a new secret agent. i, (muse’s name + line.), am eager to join your covert missions, ready for every secret, every task. Together, let’s dive into the unknown—suit up, agent. The shadows await.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Forwarded from SOLVREITH FAMILY. ⚔️
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
─────────────────.✦
𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄 𝗥𝗶𝘀𝗲! ⚔️
𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰—
𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴
under the caster’s will.
─────────────────.✦
Some believed the story ended when the last shadow vanished into 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. They mistook peace for permanence, forgetting that 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨, it only changes shape. The world may have healed on the surface, but deep beneath, the scars have always remembered. And now, those scars stir once more. From the depths where darkness once slept, a new presence 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨—not born of chaos, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮. 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲: the fight is never truly over.
❛❛𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞
𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.❞
─────────────────.✦
𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄 𝗥𝗶𝘀𝗲! ⚔️
𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰—
𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴
under the caster’s will.
─────────────────.✦
Some believed the story ended when the last shadow vanished into 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. They mistook peace for permanence, forgetting that 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨, it only changes shape. The world may have healed on the surface, but deep beneath, the scars have always remembered. And now, those scars stir once more. From the depths where darkness once slept, a new presence 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨—not born of chaos, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮. 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲: the fight is never truly over.
❛❛𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞
𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.❞
#RiseOfTheAbyss
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
ㅤㅤShall 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.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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 @TheRushforth, @HusetTilSorguine, @Kaishusoke, @Monstaesan, @TheMeirhart, @Clarkinside for the commemorative fetes.
ㅤㅤShall 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.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Monthly Keepsake, of @Kheraeld. / As we stand buoyant, traces on the ground where our roots once planted occur.
ㅤㅤㅤShall 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.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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 @TheDeities, @GeislerVoyager, @TheVelthrone, @TheSchmidts, @OdWendissel, @LaMavieVine, @Mistlesoir for the commemorative fetes.
ㅤㅤㅤShall 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.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Forwarded from THE BOYZ VILLAGE.
flowing skies, a quiet fortune; 🍀 .. )
there’s a certain light that follows him, not of a harsh sun, but of a morning glow filtering through the leaves.
it’s the ⌗Luck_0f the clover, a
quiet fortune found not in grand
gestures but in the $mall, beautiful
details of life, #MyLuckyHoonDay —finding simple beauty and a quiet, four-leaf seren.dipity everywhere he l∞ked. 🫧 ˳ֹ 𝅄
| thoughts a gentle cascade of clean,
interconnected streams. |