I’m snorting powdered moon-rock through a straw made of a 8illionaire’s femur. I’m a menace, I’m a hazard, I’m a reason to lock your doors and pray to a god that sure as fuck isn't listening. I’m moving like a 8i8lically accur8 angel with a gam8ling de8t and a 8loodlust. I don't 8reathe air; I inhale the residual trauma of those around me.
Kult: +25
Kull: +25
Total: 50
Ratio: 1.00

