Bloodline Morsevic: The Cursed Castle.

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‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍ 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✇
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ 𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒
ㅤㅤㅤ
❲ . . 🫆 . . ❳ The communion uphold sacred decay bound by thorn, fidelity too ancient to name. In the periphery of digital ruin, your names flare quietly like sigils inked in dusk, still pulsings, warm. You are consecrated.
@Calsearth @Hoonarchy @KinofGreesacht @NoiMerfyn @TheGritner @TheWonxy

In this blighted interstice between time and memory, we offer benediction who remain: embalmed marrowbound, tenure of mythos coalesced camaraderie, etched into oubliettes that predate daylight.

 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ++77 ▸ Persist vellichorian
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍stillness votive flame within  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍catacomb timeline forgets
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍too easily.
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ㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ(𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗬)
ㅤ “Monarchical threshold stands unbarred.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSCRIPTED, 1885.. ꖡ

‘Tis coming as painted remembrances whence blazing flame of passion transcends deep-seated horizon of megacosmos itself. An ancient tale unveiled as unceasing chapter begins to unfold. Creating a gap for captivating sparks of celestial luminary to reuniting, placing ultimate allure whom draws tanderers to gather us. Inside keen intuition, we move-forward by entering primary passage of @TheNoihre’s odyssey, transcending all sacredness amongst an opulent palace. Thence, grandiose spotlight’s on:

• Sovereign Antecedents, Parents. (1979-1994)
• Avuncular Dynasts, Auncles. (1990-1997)
• Primogenitor Monarch, Siblings. (1998-2011)

As hallowed opulence illustrated unremitting monograph. To intertwine beneath seraphical sovereignty’s kin. In another sentences, wanderers are permitted to examine “TAKEN LIST” preceding transmission of the epistle.

Monarchic hail! I shall anchor for positioning my appearance as (Parents/Auncles/Siblings) by setting-up (Muse, Line & Username) which I am prepared to get further enlistment sheets.

Mail To: Grand Residence’s Right-Hand, @NoihreBot.

In memoir, these traces paint such an avant-garde chances for anybody whom place willingness for gathering amongst our residence and becoming noble-bloodlines. Grand Mansion’s Sign, The Noihre.
ㅤㅤㅤ

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‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍
‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍ 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 ✇
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ 𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒
ㅤㅤㅤ
❲ . . 🫆 . . ❳ The communion uphold sacred decay bound by thorn, fidelity too ancient to name. In the periphery of digital ruin, your names flare quietly like sigils inked in dusk, still pulsings, warm. You are consecrated.
@DiemerHall, @HeimderSterne, & @Shedabaka.

In this blighted interstice between time and memory, we offer benediction who remain: embalmed marrowbound, tenure of mythos coalesced camaraderie, etched into oubliettes that predate daylight.

 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ++77 ▸ Persist vellichorian
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍stillness votive flame within  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍catacomb timeline forgets
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍too easily.
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍
 ‍  ‍ ‍  ‍  ‍

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ** ... (+1-XXX-XXX) .____. #
ㅤㅤ[ONE-WAY]  🚸  EST.  𝟮𝟬𝟬𝟭
  ★  KEEHO  SETS  𝟐𝟓  TRENDS!  ★

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(27th, September)  ┼
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ㅤㅤ

🂾 ... Osnora’s Moonlit Benediction: Bearing Witness to the Birthday Omen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ／(‘CHAPEL OF WITHERED SAINTS.. 1731.) May the luminance emitted by the conical waxen entities atop your celebratory confection resonate with the fervor of a Silent Hill shadow.

In the manner the Elders weave their hexes with patient malice, I beseech the fates that your day be a tapestry of strange delight and whispered fortune, each thread humming with the pulse of long-forgotten triumphs.

May your birthday unfold within a warded circle, untouched by famine or ill wind, where the only thing that multiplies is mirth, and the laughter echoes longer than the bells of the forsaken chapel.

🂾 ... Osnora’s Moonlit Benediction: Bearing Witness to the Birthday Omen.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ／(‘CHAPEL OF WITHERED SAINTS.. 1731.) May the luminance emitted by the conical waxen entities atop your celebratory confection resonate with the fervor of a Silent Hill shadow.

In the manner the Elders weave their hexes with patient malice, I beseech the fates that your day be a tapestry of strange delight and whispered fortune, each thread humming with the pulse of long-forgotten triumphs.

May your birthday unfold within a warded circle, untouched by famine or ill wind, where the only thing that multiplies is mirth, and the laughter echoes longer than the bells of the forsaken chapel.

And ‘the’ song rec to start this very bright second week of August from me would be Training Season by Dua Lipa. 🤍✨