MONEY. POWER. GLORY

elysium members have until july 28 to post here. attendance is mandatory and those who fail to respond will be demoted to serf.

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? it baits her from her confines, forcing a wry grin to unfold across the premises of her corrupted countenance -- the symphonic heralding of WAR -- and she adheres to it like a hound. the queen?s procession is hasty, animated, her visage portraying the ramifications of the thrill and adrenaline which surges through her interior as the domineering command to follow erupts from gluttonous jaws. none of her advocates { save for the firebird } have been informed of the impending carnage, and even as she maneuvers across the entirety of alacritia the phantom is a silent enigma, plots brewing within the chasms of her most pestilent mind. as she approaches the borderlines of her ally?s domain, she blatantly disregards them, fully aware that she will be welcomed with open arms into the fold; and once the masses start to manifest within her line of vision, the queen breaks away from whichever of her acolytes abided to her demand on her route to roman?s side. a sheepish smirk is offered in greeting to the armada sovereign as she reclines upon her haunches adjacent to the woman, attention wavering to the prospective militants gathered as she waits for her own troops to settle.