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thesundrinker.bsky.social
𝐈 π€πŒ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 π–πŽπ‘π‹πƒ 𝐈𝐍 π‘π„ππˆπ‘π“π‡.
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[SEETHING]

[at least doing the laundry is bearable]

πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡

πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡πŸ”‡

πŸ”‡πŸ–•πŸΌπŸ˜‘

the jester jingled miserably

πŸ”‡ βŒ›1️⃣ πŸ•

WHAT

😑

Oh shut up you mewling lard. Get away from me.

I...

😩

(Making a little jester hat for plushy sundrinker)

The fool doth think he is wise; the wise man knows he is a fool.

No I was going to REPLACE the sun.

[the stuffy did not answer further]

O Harellen, Goddess of Mischief the necromancer is trying to pull the cotton from your stuffy.

It dissipated. [stopping itself from saying more]

[reluctantly] You have a stout heart, Udorakas. I see a bright future before you. Live it as you see fit. Perhaps I will terrorize your children instead of you.

Ugh

[wailing increases]

[high-pitched, siren-like telepathic wailing]