| Stand behind yer sheriff |
Circulation: 193,831,355 |
Issue: 717 | 29th day of Sleeping, Y18 |
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Jhudora's Back!
by dutchese159
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Great stories!
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 Heavy Metal
A Mote. A particle, or speck of dust. A tiny, inconsequential amount of something, usually pictured floating off to nowhere. A little bit of somethingness to punctuate the nothingness. This might be what always made me uneasy, when I thought of motes - that emphasis of space. At least, I think it was; before that day, when I started thinking something else.
by placebo_533 |
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 Sir Tormund Ellis: A Documentary: Part Two
I trained officially with my sword before him, and I got sent into those disgusting sewers before him, and I woke up at the crack of dawn before him, and I think I might have even been Master Torak's favourite before him — I swear. But, you know, the day he came in, there was this... aura around him, like he was constantly surrounded by light motes.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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 Tallydepp and the Imperial Exam
Uni cake was Tallydepp's favourite food and usually the sweet aroma would stop her in her tracks, but today the excited Uni didn't even notice. She pulled a letter from her school satchel, her hooves shaking slightly. "Look! Look!" she cried. "I've finally been selected to try out for the Imperial Exam!"
by tallydepp |
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