
B*ck*t C*mj*r, The Enduring
@terribleFate
DM Me, cutie.

Terrible news. I lived.

Hey. Portraits by @deathlessDeadwood since cameras don't work on me. https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/0f594fe944bf.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/7e0978c0742e.jpg

so humans say cunty when something's like, you know. fetch. not a command, dogs, sit down. that was a command. anyway, do trolls like, say nooky? are we Flyboi-ing it up in here? Vaguely #NSFW from the terminology, I suppose.

i'm very humble.

are we talking about casteism? it's fake you know. like. entirely. i could pretend to be whatever land caste i want. what are you gonna do? stab me? lol.

Hey creeps. How's it going?

Not that I would be a Threshecutioner in any life. Ha.

Imagine being a Threshecutioner on command from the High Honkkulist Sermonster and you get your innards rearranged at the hands of a young mutant grub with a broken bottle because you were too busy barking orders at the Jadeblood Market Stallwarts to get a move on. What would you see? I think it's a vast field of black-red razorgrass, cultivated for feed, bandages, and execution pyre kindling. The stalks are almost as tall as you, glassy at the edges, and while they'd normally slice up your hands as you push through them, you realize you're dead. They can't cut you anymore. You are awake, wandering through the medow under Alternia's bruised sky. The moons are low and strong, the battlefield and its noise of alarms, drones, and screaming have all become distant. It's like you're underwater. The only thing you can really hear is your own blood pounding through you, dripping out of the wound all the same. The cullgrain parts ahead of you, bending like it recognizes you. It was waiting for you. Or, maybe, she was. Your Matesprit. The one troll you were never allowed to keep. She's standing beside that old feeding trough, with a broken scythe laying against the fence of the hive you both built together but knew neither of you would ever retire to. You barely see them. A black dress under the incandescent pink moonlight. Her horns a silhouette as her hand is outstretched to you. She's calmer and happier in no way a troll has ever been while alive. This is impossible because fields on Alternia are dangerous, matesprits die young, and nobody gets a peaceful afterlife. But for once, the empire, the drones, the hemospectrum, and the noise are all behind them. #Violence #Gore #Mournful #Iguess

I'm only happy when she says I am.

BRINGING BACK. It's time. I'm going under YOUR profiles directly. No cowardly volunteer shit. #smash #pass #bucketsmashorpass #suggestive

apparently some of you think i was better lobotomized

What is more powerful? THEYTHEM NOOK #NSFW <3 <> Or HELLEN OF TROLL <3< c3<

Lots of edgy black text my way is doom accounts on here. Ever notice that?

Goregle. How to report neighbors for still celebrating Fin Dependence Night the next night.

Half of my job is telling the members of the felt to stop aura farming and focus on the mission.

Corruption of Champions run but I make Chittr make the decisions? #NSFWE #Silly

The Felt Chud War is like sending threshecutioners to disband a WoW Clan. An appropriate measure.

Hey, I've still got it in my old age.

Flattered but get out of the way chick, I have a Beyblade Locals to go stomp.

For #FishingFriday, I've got a Seadweller on my list. Fun.

















