Enter the Snowflake's lair... |
Circulation: 183,771,762 |
Issue: 473 | 10th day of Celebrating, Y12 |
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We found the following 9 result(s) for the keyword antiaircraft_3
Week - 435
The Friend by antiaircraft_3 | Description: The mirror snickered. You really can't, can you? Look at yourself. Mutants have been prettier. |
| Week - 440
Flowlight: Moon - Eternal Stranger: Part One by antiaircraft_3 | Description: This is the first part of one of the foretellings of the Great Eyrie Sage of Shenkuu, Four Left Feet – currently held in prison at the displeasure of the Emperor – as recited by his scribe, One Pugilistic Mootix. |
| Week - 441
Flowlight: Moon - Eternal Stranger: Part Two by antiaircraft_3 | Description: "I never said I was harmless." |
| Week - 442
Flowlight: Moon - Eternal Stranger: Part Three by antiaircraft_3 | Description: "There's no way you could've been around a hundred years ago," he was saying. "There's no such thing as an immortal pet..." |
| Week - 469
Flowlight: Sun - Echoes of Pride - Part One by antiaircraft_3 | Description: None of the occupants of this particular inn were going to bother getting up because of something as petty as daytime. |
| Week - 470
Flowlight: Sun - Echoes of Pride: Part Two by antiaircraft_3 | Description: "I've someone to meet," said the Xweetok, "and if you will insist on coming with us, at least try not to act so... conspicuously. It makes things hungry." |
| Week - 471
Flowlight: Sun - Echoes of Pride: Part Three by antiaircraft_3 | Description: A voice emerged from the creature's throat, oddly inflected, yet recognisable. "Who are you to know my name? You are nothing to us. You are food." |
| Week - 472
Flowlight: Sun - Echoes of Pride: Part Four by antiaircraft_3 | Description: The Witch of the Swamp glared at the world outside in general. "Who are you? Never mind that, why are you here? This had better be something urgent." |
| Week - 473
Flowlight: Sun - Echoes of Pride: Part Five by antiaircraft_3 | Description: The sharp shadows that were cast by that fearsome light were absolute; their inky blackness allowed nothing into them, and they were as sharp as if they were real. |
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Sickness "Breez, honey, could you go out and see how expensive her cure is? Mushroom Ointment?" Mother asks.
by spirit_wolf589 |
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