Credits are a blessing from the Mistress
Sounds religious in a way, well it is
There is a belief in the power of Credits
The rational of choices made are driven by it
Sliding the boots up young supple thighs to tread into the dominion of the Azologoth
Gloved hands to grasp a weapon, bare finger tips to feel the trigger
The torso is a flag, wrapped tight from crotch to neck in black screaming "I serve the Mistress"
Face masked, none know who you are
You only matter as a number in multitude
ORC the insurance policy for the faith
A hypnotic existence, flesh abandoned of autonomy
She will do as she is told
She will go to any dark depth on the Island
Face off against any enemy
At any odds
Take on Azologoth at the prospect of the abyss
There is a common pride, being one of them
Especially expending as one
Dave Murray
2024-05-07 09:21:26 +0000 UTCMike B
2024-05-03 17:45:18 +0000 UTCSarah
2024-04-19 02:49:27 +0000 UTC