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| A Knight's Tale; Freeform - Albion Marius | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 8 2010, 08:01 AM (214 Views) | |
| Kirin | Sep 8 2010, 08:01 AM Post #1 |
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Kirin the Bloodedge
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Summary: A look into some of the most crucial moments into the life of Albion Marius, a squire of Escennia, and the pivotal events that have shaped him into who he is and helped make the decision to journey out into the world. Word Count: 4,550 Goals: Introducing side character Albion Marius. Looking to start with a Ponyta; aiming for exp or happiness otherwise. Notes: I've divided it up into four sections for easier reading. Enjoy! Edited by Kirin, Sep 8 2010, 08:04 AM.
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![]() ![]() LP: 70 | 0.5 ![]() Albion LP: 144 Modding LP: 12 | |
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| Kirin | Sep 8 2010, 08:02 AM Post #2 |
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Kirin the Bloodedge
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Sixteen years ago. Above the resplendent city of Escennia, the sun hung overhead like a shining beacon of hope, guiding its people through a day where the throngs milled through the affluent streets lined with historical landmarks. To those standing in Escennias mighty towers, a blossoming parade of fashion and colour could be seen, staring down at the rich and famous people that walked about the shopping centres, or at the children playing in the parks, their parents watching over them like Taillow to their young. Up at this altitude, everyone below seemed like nothing more than an insignificant speck in the universal conglomerate, where it made far more sense that people were nothing more than motes compared to planets and galaxies. Yet in Escennia, the rich lorded over the commoners and the outsiders were no better than dirt upon a shoe. It was an attitude that many people wished would change, though those native to this place and bearing that frame of mind would find themselves largely outnumbered by those of the view that money was power. Many people avoided even speaking to the locals for that very reason as they passed through on their way to other places, though amongst the nobility there could be found the odd one or two that would gladly give any wayward Trainers the assistance they sought. One such man had taken his family up to an ancient guard-tower for some sightseeing, so that he could share with them the true beauty of the city that they lived in and loved with all their hearts. His name was Linton Marius, born of noble blood, and owned a considerable tract of land within the city such that he owned a mansion complete with a stable inside the city walls. Linton was rather happily married to a beautiful woman of blonde hair, blue eyes and porcelain skin by the name of Renata Marius-Swancott, who together had given birth to three healthy children, all of which were now clinging to their parents in various ways. Their youngest, Sally, was currently nursed against her mothers breast, the eight-month-old babe barely able to understand the world around her and calmed under her mothers reassuring touch. Her short curls of golden hair were hidden under a pink babys bonnet. Their eldest son, Damien, was currently at the railing of the tower, staring out at their home, the six-year-old boy rather excited that he could see their house from where they were. Brown-haired and blue-eyed, he resembled his father extremely closely and many said that Damien would be a perfect mirror of Linton as he matured in age. Their final was a little boy, four years of age, clinging to his mothers left leg thanks to an immutable fear of heights. He, like Sally, resembled his mother; his hair was blonde and short, with his eyes a piercing, icy shade of blue. They had named him Albion, cladding him in white clothing as befitted the meaning of his name. All three of the children would be raised the same, their parents had decided, and their clothes were near-identical save for personal preferences in colour, their clothes size, and in the case of Sally, the fact that she was a little baby dictated what he wore. Damien, as usual, pulled at his clothes just a little, but Albions terror kept him still. He really didnt like being up this high; the feeling in his stomach made him sick every time he looked down at the ground below the tower. Easy, Albion, Linion said, moving to his younger sons side and placing a reassuring hand on his head, messing his hair ever so slightly in that annoying way that managed to take your mind off whatever it was that plagued your thoughts. It was almost the same thing that he did with his Rapidash, Farley. Faaaather, the boy complained, stop that! Albion didnt like it when people touched him. In fact, there were many things that he didnt like. He didnt like eating vegetables, nor did he like dirt and mud, and certainly did not like having to deal with his brother hitting him all the time. It was so very vexing, and a near constant on a daily basis, either. In fact, this was one of the very rare moments that Damien had decided not to hit Albion, for which he was thankful. He was a scared little boy most of the time, and his family knew it. The hand lifted from the young boys head with a kindly smiled offered to the son, along with a gentle chuckle. Then stop being so scared. Nothing will go wrong. Just remember that the city below you is the most beautiful thing you will ever lay eyes on. Damien turned about from the railing, an inquisitive look in his eyes while he stared at his father. But there are lots of other things that look good, too. What about the ocean? Or maybe some Pokmon? Damien had always held little interest in Escennia, preferring to look more outside the city and the many things around it. Things like distant Mayriver or the Aridair Desert off on the horizon were far more appealing to the boy and his sense of adventure. All his forty-five years of life, however, Linton was far more content with the things around him. Theres beauty in the whole world, Damien. Some people just find it in different places. Here, for me, is everything I love. My family is here my two boys and my beautiful little daughter, not to mention the wife I love with all my heart. The father of three moved to the railing, gripping it with both hands and staring out towards the city that had given him so much. Renata watched on with a smile on her lips, knowing exactly what was about to come next a viewpoint that, after marrying this man, she had come to appreciate so much. Linton, however, kept his gaze at the myriad things below. In this place, there are a lot of people. They all have stories to tell, from the old man in the park who feeds all the Starly and Pidgey that gather around him right around lunch time, to the lady that lives in the middle of town with her brother and likes to go clothes shopping every Friday with her friends that I pass on my way home from work. Everyone here has something to say. The city itself speaks even more tales. Just look at this place: the buildings scream their histories at you. The two guard towers in the west, old and crumbling, their duties as sentry-posts long over but the memories of those who served in it still remaining in the minds of those who really care. What about the local library? Its been rebuilt three times in twenty-five years, and thats a memorable past. Everything about Escennia is beautiful to me, Damien. I wouldnt trade it for the entire world. It was times like these, when these little stories were told, that Albion really looked up to his father. He loved this place with every fibre of his heart and soul, that hed dedicated his life to its service. He didnt care how rich he was; Linton could have lived in rags for all hed cared, but the man valued his family so much that he wanted only the best for them and worked hard to give them that boon. He had to work day in and day out, both for the family he loved but also the place he loved, which brought him comfort in his heart of hearts. It was the most rewarding lifestyle possible, which made him feel like hed chosen the right path in life every day when he rose out of bed and went to sleep at night. Linton had been a knight of Escennia, a noble man who fought for its honour. That day, the four-year-old made the biggest choice of his entire life: some day, Albion wanted to be just like his dad. |
![]() ![]() LP: 70 | 0.5 ![]() Albion LP: 144 Modding LP: 12 | |
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| Kirin | Sep 8 2010, 08:03 AM Post #3 |
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Kirin the Bloodedge
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Seven years ago. The sun that so often shone over Escennia was hidden behind a massive streak of heavy grey clouds, thunder and lightning crackling overhead as the rain poured down like it had never done so before. The water sleeted off the terracotta tile rooftops, and the windows had all long fogged up with the trails of raindrops intermingling. A gale-force wind blew across the city, trees sighing and bending to their whims, power lines whipping and, in many cases, snapping. The lights flickered on and off, threatening to remain out, as the last vestiges of hope for solace from this terrible rage of nature seemed unbearably dim. One shattered window brought the elements into the grand Marius mansion, rain and wind streaking onto the white-tiled floor and disturbing what lay around the house while glass shards slashed the drapes behind them to pieces. It was not a pretty sight to behold, for it seemed the world itself was furious that afternoon. However, the weather was not the true travesty of the day. Indeed, it seemed the worlds anger was directed at one specific event, that a child who was freshly waking up from an afternoon nap and strolling down the wide staircase to the foyer of her home was about to discover, the terrified shriek of a young girl ringing through the high-roofed house even over the cacophony of natures fury. Multiple doors slammed open in immediate response, for the people inside the home wondered what the sister and daughter was so worked up about. It was strange for little Sally, now nine years of age, to scream so loudly and for such a long time. From various rooms did a number of people appear; first Damien, who stood at the top of the staircase and merely stared down, disbelieving the sight that he was bearing witness to. Renata was next, whose footsteps echoed loudly as she dashed down the stairs to see what had happened with her own eyes, tears already streaming down her face as her breath hitched, disbelieving the event with such force that she would not even speak. Finally, Albion arrived, a young man of thirteen, staring over the railing at Damiens side and losing all colour in his face. What he was seeing couldnt be true. Sadly, the four of them were all bearing witness to the same event, an event that would shatter their world for ages to come: the father, the husband, Linton Marius, lying in a pool of his own blood at the base of the staircase, a knife in his back, bleeding out. Renatas form, kneeling on the lowest stair, was curled up with her knees to her face, sobbing loudly as she lamented the loss of her husband. Sally, who had been the one to find the body, ran down to be with her mother, where she looped the grief-stricken woman in her arms and wept into her shoulder. More doors were opening all around the house while the maids and butlers to the noble Marius family came to see what all the fuss was about, all of them reacting with varying degrees of stunned silence and tears. Linton had been a valued member of the Escennian community, liked by many and disliked by an extremely small handful. To those of the rarefied rich and powerful circles, he was one of them thanks to his status as a knight of their fair city and his inherited family wealth. To the average middle-class citizen, he was a friendly face, one who was not afraid to lend a hand when he found someone in need, not afraid to get his hands dirty performing a laborious task as a modern-day representation of noblesse oblige, the notion that whomsoever claims to be noble must act in a noble fashion And to the travelling trainer who was merely passing through the city he was a friendly face, willing to point someone in the right direction. Few people could imagine that Linton had enemies within the city, least of all anyone now staring down at the catastrophe that was unfolding on the cold tile floor below. None were able to move, paralysed by shock and sadness. This was, in many of the minds of those gathered, one of the greatest blows to the city imaginable. Linton Marius had been the centre of their world, almost. Their lives had been in his service, or even born out of his love for them. To deal with the shock of losing a father, a mentor, a patron for many it was an unbearable thought. No reaction was as powerful as Albions, however, one that very few members of the family had expected from the little boy. They knew him as a timid, easily scared child, and today would not be any different from him. As one of the maids walked down the stairs to comfort the mother and daughter who wept in one anothers embrace, Albion dashed off back to his bedroom, tears rolling down pale cheeks as the unbelieving boy tried to process the thing that he had to bear unfortunate witness to. His bedroom door slammed behind him, and Albion followed it, sinking down to the floor with his knees raising up to his head as the blood drained from his face. Pale, scared, the young man was terrified of the consequences. His father was dead. Murdered, even, by forces unknown. Who would want to break into their house and kill him? Who would perform such an unsightly and cowardly act in this day and age? Who would want to kill his father? And, worst of all why? Why would someone want his father dead? Hot tears rolled down Albions cheeks unashamedly. He did not sob, nor did he blink. He could feel his eyes burning and the water leaking down his face, but he couldnt make a sound. His throat was parched, totally dry, and barely even able to croak in his sadness. Light-headed and dizzy, he would have fallen easily if not for the fact that he was leaning against his door. Heck, he felt like he wanted to faint. Why why why The mantra echoed through his mind as, weakly, his arms flailed, hands balling into fists and slamming against the plush carpet of his floor. A flash of lightning followed immediately by a peal of thunder outside his window punctuated the sound of his head slamming against his door. He just could not fathom it. His father had meant the world to Albion. He was a role model, a caretaker and provider, an inspiration even a hero. Albion had wanted to be his father when he grew up, and now that man was gone, his life ended in a scoundrels gambit. Why did he have to die? Never would he come to terms with that. He had not died honourably, due to old age or battling an illness. He had not died on the field of battle as the knights of old had done. This was not a knights death. This was a commoners death. This was a cowards way, and the little boy would not have it. Slowly, Albion struggled to his feet, reaching for the doorknob as the back of his hands swiped away a handful of the tears, unsure that his muscles would hold him up for too long. It took three tries to pry the door open, unable to even turn the handle, but with a resolute heart he walked back out to where he had found the body of his father. His mother and Sally were nowhere to be seen, and Damien was still staring down at the corpse of his father, having not budged even a millimetre in his silent vigil. The butlers and maids were setting about fixing the broken window and dressing the wound of the body so that they might prepare it for a funeral service, as well as cleaning up the bloodstained floor. However they had not moved it, and that was the way Albion wanted it. Step by step, he carefully edged himself down the staircase, a hand on the brass railing to steady himself as he walked down. His knees were buckling and shaking, likely to give way underneath him, but all he needed was a few more moments. At the bottom of the staircase, his knees collapsed under him and he went tumbling towards the body of his father, ending up in a small heap beside him. Pain from bumping his head on the tiled floor wracked his body, and Albion hardly deigned to move from where he was. This was not, by any means, a good day. One shaky hand was laid on the fathers chest, and tear-stricken eyes burning with a resolution locked on the prostate body. Within Albions mind resounded one thought, one thing that, on his dead fathers body, he would swear. It would be a solemn promise for the rest of his days. Father I will not disappoint you even one day for the rest of my life. I will be strong, like you. I will be a son that makes you proud. Watch me, Father. Im not going to cry any more. Linton Marius death would not be in vain. |
![]() ![]() LP: 70 | 0.5 ![]() Albion LP: 144 Modding LP: 12 | |
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| Kirin | Sep 8 2010, 08:03 AM Post #4 |
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Kirin the Bloodedge
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One week ago. Albion Marius, after such a harrowing early life without his father, had grown to be a changed, spirited man. While he was still the perfect resemblance of his mother Renata, in spirit he was so much like his father. Many within the community regarded Albion as the boy that they affectionately called Linton Junior, a title he wore with considerable pride. Many seemed to overlook Damien who had already left home to become a treasure hunter and, along with his partner Swablu, had found some moderate successes in the forest north of Escennia. Albion, however, had taken to his fathers duties, and was studying extremely hard to become a knight in his own right. That on its own was a difficult journey, but it was certainly one that Albion wished to undertake. For the memory of his departed father he would complete it, to which end he had spent the past six years studying history, swordplay, riding and literature in order to become a proper young man, worthy of entering society. His butler, Alfred, had been the one to tutor him through thick and thin, and he was much like an uncle to young Albion, one who was regarded fondly. It was a rather fateful day at the Marius family stables that Alfred and Albion were examining the stock of horses, Ponyta and Rapidash most specifically, and they were discussing many things about the future of the young man that Alfred had helped to raise since he was but thirteen. Alfred J. Quinn was a proper, upstanding man of Escennian high society, hired specifically by Renata in order to help her manage the arduous task of raising three children alone. The butler was more than up to the challenge, proving to not only be a cunning linguist but an excellent caretaker, keeping all three of the rapscallions under careful control whilst proving to be popular with the children. Damien, Albion and Sally all had immense respect for their mentor and overseer, and whenever they expressed their thanks for what he had done, Alfred simply replied with the same thing every time: Always a pleasure for such bright young faces. He loved the kids like he did his own family, and treated them like royalty. It was a match made in heaven, and there was not a single member of the Marius household who was ungrateful for what Alfred had done. Albion, Alfred had started, his hand resting on the flank of a Rapidash, what do you think of Pokmon? A question asked of the noble son, one that was innocent enough. This was a discussion that had been prompted many times over the years, and Albions answer, like the boy himself, had grown with age and maturity. It was both a test and a measure of seeing what Albion wished to do with his talents, ones that were being honed finely. Albion considered his answer for a few moments before speaking, trying to form his chaotic thoughts into coherent sentences. Theyre magnificent, really, he replied, the blonde-haired young mans left hand raising to his chin in thought. Theyre intelligent creatures that serve as counterparts to humans. Take Winston here, hes a genius horse! Winston was the Ponyta that had been bred of his parents Rapidashes, one of five Pokmon that inhabited the stables. Each of the children owned a Ponyta, though Damien had left his at home, uninterested in it. Renata owned her own Rapidash, as did Linton. Lintons Rapidash Michael had passed in to Alfreds care, as a sort of gift and thank-you for all those years of service. I see, was all Alfred replied with. The discussion was brief, and that was all he was interested in hearing. It had been the same every time, Albion noted, and wondered why the old man had resorted to such shrewd methods. However, his train of thought was interrupted with a burst of loud whinnying and stamping from Winston, at which Albion laughed and moved over to pat his steed on its muzzle with some pride to calm it. While Albion was too large to ride it, he was simply happy for the companionship on walks around town. Winston was highly faithful, a staunch ally, and a friend. Sometimes even a silent confidant in the moments where Albion had a little self-doubt. Most important was the fact that Albion trusted Winston with his life and would never trade him for anything in the world. No, he loved Winston like a brother. If, of course, you wanted a Ponyta as a brother that was, admittedly, a little strange, but such was life. People and Pokmon developed bonds, and the tie between Albion and his Ponyta was as strong as any. Winstons muzzle moved up to lick Albions hand, at which he smiled. It was times like these, however, that Albion wondered why he did not venture out of Escennia on a journey with Winston out into the wider world, to see what they could discover out in the open fields and forests that dotted the landscape. Crossing the seas and meeting new people in strange and exotic places invoked the wanderlust within Albion, the same feeling that had taken his brother and caused him to leave home. Perhaps that was why he didnt want to do it cutting ties with his mother and sister were not the most appealing of ideas. Maybe he was still a mothers boy at heart after all. But what was life without a little adventure, though? Maybe itd do him some good to get out of there. After all, he had been ordained a squire of Escennia only two weeks prior. Maybe some life experience would do him some good. Nobody would mind, would they, if he were to go out and test his abilities and learn more about the world? After all, he still recalled clearly the day his father talked of beauty atop the tower, both within and without Escennia. Something in him was stirring. Alfred, what if I were to leave Escennia on a journey with Winston? he asked suddenly after many long minutes of silence. Albions curiosity had grown to take the better of him, much as Damiens had. Perhaps it was in the blood, he lamented, that he was hardly different to his brother. Or perhaps it was just the spirit of his father guiding him on to bigger, better things. After all, the world was simply not Escennia. What out there would he find? Alfreds only answer was a twinkling smile finally, the boy had found the answer to the question. |
![]() ![]() LP: 70 | 0.5 ![]() Albion LP: 144 Modding LP: 12 | |
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| Kirin | Sep 8 2010, 08:04 AM Post #5 |
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Kirin the Bloodedge
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The present day. All had been prepared. The day had come where Albion was finally leaving home with the blessings of his mother who had fought furiously to get her only remaining son to stay at home just a little longer. Renata would still have Sally to obsess over, but even Sally was growing up, a fine young lady of sixteen who, more than once, had gotten herself in trouble with some of the boys, only for her two older brothers to bail her out. That was something that Albion would miss. He already missed Damiens presence (he was rather thankful for the lack of punchings, though) and wouldnt have minded a travelling companion. However, this journey was for Albion and Albion alone to make. It would be a chance to reflect on his own inner self, to find out just what composed the being known as Albion Marius, and where the legacy of his father stopped and his own being shone bright. Father, watch over me as I make this journey. Upon the front steps of the Marius mansion was the family gathered. Everyone was present; the maids and butlers, Renata, Sally and Alfred. All of them were there to see young Albion and Winston off, to wherever their journey would take them. At this point, even Albion was unsure where he would head. He knew only that he wanted to journey across the land, seeing new and interesting things, and discovering exactly what kind of person he truly was. All manner of things were being carried by the young squire as he prepared for his journey; slung on Winstons side was a saddlebag full of necessities such as clothing and food, whilst on his other flank was a tent - after all, theyd need to rest at some point. Upon Albions body was a suit of tailored plate armour, and at his side a longsword and shield. Yes, he looked the part of a knight, and would venture from his home in exactly that fashion. He had the legacy of Linton Marius to live up to, and he would do that with pride but he would do so whilst carving the name Albion Marius in the stars, right alongside his fathers. All things were in readiness, prompting the squire to check all of his belongings one last time; content with the contents of his equipment, he marched up the marble steps to face his family one last time. To his younger sister, he presented a hug and a pat on the head exactly as his father would have done. For his butler, Alfred, a quiet nod and a smile of thanks; nothing else was needed. Finally, to his mother, a long embrace and a quiet wish of farewell; the promise that he would return home to face her one day. It was with a solemn heart that Albion marched back down the stairs and took Winstons reins, walking out into the distance from his home. He couldnt look back; the tears, however, were not coming. He had not lost any of his family members, merely decided to venture forth in the hopes of finding what Albion Marius truly was. One day, he decided, he would return home as a proud knight of Escennia. And not one moment before. |
![]() ![]() LP: 70 | 0.5 ![]() Albion LP: 144 Modding LP: 12 | |
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| mephistopheles | Sep 9 2010, 06:16 AM Post #6 |
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~ ANBU (to be) ~
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Yo! Mephy at your service, first time at this after a long while. Hope this goes well! *flexes* Let's talk technical delivery first. You write well, that's almost a given. You have a wide vocabulary and you use it to your advantage, filling out your sentences in detail and illustrating quite complete pictures of your scenes. I like that. I especially appreciate how you seem to bring to life all the finer, grittier details of the Escennia city including its architecture, people and culture (outlined in Linton's monologue at the end of the first section). This, however, sometimes works against you. Though few, there are times when you have long sentences separated into many fragments, and you falsely assume a latter adverb phrase to be describing something you formerly mentioned, when it is not. For example, right from the beginning in the first section:
I'm pretty sure that "staring down at the rich and famous people" were "those standing in Escennia's mighty towers", but the way this is structured, it is the blossoming parade staring down at the rich and famous people. Be careful of this, as on multiple occasions it had caused me to re-read sentences and it really does detract from your delivery of the story overall. I would also encourage to try different styles of writing. You write long flourishing sentences, as I previously mentioned, but they run the danger of being overly daunting and long-winded. Try interchanging it sometimes with a more concise and to the point style. Just a suggestion. Now onto story execution. You mentioned in your summary that one of the story's aims was to look at "the pivotal events that have shaped him into who he is and helped make the decision to journey out into the world." First two sections had me completely sold on the fact that he looked up to his father, and wanted to be just like him when he grew up. That is, one who loved being where he was in Escennia. The reasons were all there. ... and then all of a sudden he just decided he had it in his blood to adventure. Sections three and four were bland. Mostly actions. I couldn't see how Albion matured mentally and arrived at the fact that he wanted to adventure, aside from physically being asked by Alfred multiple times. I guess I just wasn't sold on his decision because I saw nothing "pivotal" (so to speak) to change his thinking, especially when he was still carrying a lifestyle mirroring that of his dad's. Other than that, just wanted to point out that the entire story wasn't all too exciting for me. I know it's only an introduction for a side character, but I was almost expecting an actual climax. Your longest, and perhaps best written, section was the second with the murder, and it got me fired up thinking that this traumatic history would somehow be reflected in a present-day encounter that would change Albion. You know, rather than having the decision come to him while carrying his assumed everday usual routines. Not to mention your overall plot was kind of cliche. In any case, you did a great job here, and that's all I have for you really. Other minor details like a case where you switched Sally's gender in a pronoun and things like that I'm not going to go into, unless you really want it. PM me or something if that's what you want. I'm sure you're much more interested in the rewards anyway. =) Rewards: 5 ![]() ![]() (3 charges)![]() x 54375z 12.1 ![]() Thanks for playing! ~~~ Aaaand 0.4 for me. Squee!
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Neuron Long APL: 36.6 ![]() tracker:0.6 from team posts | 2.2 from VP event posts | 4.2 from Litte Cup | 1.3 from BoB | 0.5 from MoMV | |
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6:52 PM Jul 10