Mangled, mangled, mangled

[la_belle_laide]

Leander looks to Leander like, Help me, I need to know this.
Sometimes it, like, helps to, like, talk to yourself.

The King was a sign that he would come so soon, and alone, but then, thankfully, she thought better of it filled him with such joy that it will lead to other towns.
*cough*

She gave it a squeeze, and gave him a smirk that he's always disliked, one that almost ripped my throat out with its claws.
I hate that kind of smirk, too.

He would leave a note for Krislar, or a clump of melted glass (sometimes it melts, sometimes not,) or a child.
The note or the clump of melted glass--very considerate. A child? I'm not sure.

The universe was so much bigger than what he thought better of it. "And yet you somehow ended up in the wood stove.
That's what you get for going into the candy house, Leander!

Well, it is Raknar who has killed Apala, who had ended up being a prostitute, he felt a cold gratitude towards Sharai for dragging him off to die.
He's a whore!

Krislar hadn't struck him as he'd walked.
'Cause that would have been rude.

"Destiny is also dependent on the other side. Something shiny. A coin, maybe."
It's all about the sniny thing, isn't it?

Leander said as he could, on occasion, selfishly wrap himself in his hand, something he had something to do the same spot that he was leaving to take his eyes to rest them, he pictured the figure eight design that was done.
O_o Very selfish indeed.

You are still alive to give him a bit, too, by its unfairness--Krislar had more than one person.
OMGKrislar/morethanonepersonTHEIRLOVEISSOMANGLED!!!!!11)

She struggled against him frantically for a moment that Leander became convinced that there is chaos, and in chaos, he reigns. Onakoa raises herself to her knees, and Leander wonders if she will do it again!
*Coughcough*

He is damaged.
The title of the first book, I guess.

Did you...Did the same to him, maybe nail him to come back! If you wake before I was sleeping when you threw him into lightheadedness, he takes a cursory glance at the three men, his eyes and a pen, and he swung his legs over the years since they showed up here and there.
Nail him to come back! What a swell idea.

He poured water from a well and filling his own pants.
The sound of running water does that to some people, I guess.

Not exactly my home. Not exactly my home. Not exactly my home. Not exactly mine either. Well, it is a hero who should be rewarded for killing that scum, and you, why, you I could leave town. I could make my way to ask him to jump in, it should be rewarded for killing that scum, and you, why, you I could never turn over and get up. Leander made his way out of town." Leander nodded, trying to pretend as if the Ciphers were common to them. In his mind, and so on.
And so on, and so on, and so on, and so on.

Did the same small, brown hands that skittered hesitantly over his tongue, and if there were more dried flowers hanging upside down from strings on the grass somewhere around Lake Lirik and stare at the time it was Leander who picked up the fallen sword, and he can't breathe so she loosens her grip on his mind--but he knew even the shame of being a prostitute, he felt a cold gratitude towards Sharai for dragging him away before he turned away from the madness and ignorance of the others seem to, and he trips over his skin is withering, wrinkling, even falling away.
It kind of is a shame that he was a prostitute, but it must be worse having to trip over your own withering skin.

"My name is Minda," Leander said.
"Uhh, and never mind the broad shoulders and square jaw. ^_^;; "

Whore, I have to add delusions to the Temple.
Did The Mangler just call me a whore?

I think your memory is the way before they were in Napelo, you had a tea that will make them laugh verytime they hear it. "That's not mine," Krislar said.
Keep denying it, Krislar. That "tea" is illegal in most states, you know.

Think, Leander! You said yourself that the scent of dried herbs and flowers was in the distance, and a few thing about Majat; most importantly, where many of the future anyway.
Oddly, that pretty much sums up the story.

I had to leave a message with someone in his own pants.
They're sure to find it there.

But have you know of a town that he was from shook some impasse free in his own pants.
*Snick* "Impasse."

The idea that he has to, and he found himself compelled to look directly into his own pants.
I think "his own pants" is today's "the other man's groin."

"Pleased to meet you," Leander whispered back. He'd known, but he had said wedged in his own pants.
Ouch! And on the west coast, that would be known as a Melvin.

There were the knots come free, and the Dome, her arms at her over his tongue, and if he was talking about his own pants.
Knots, tongue, pants? What kind of a story is this?

I'm certain that it looks as if he'd said, "I think you're doing something that will make me stupid."
I'm pretty sure that this is making me stupid.

Sanuri treated him like family, and so he concentrated on trying to rip the skin off.
It's not as violent as it sounds, really! It's just an old family custom.

"Wonderful," Leander breathed. It threw wide the door to warn him shrank back into it, seeming glad to have been handsome at some time in his own pants.
Which is better, I guess, than being handsome in someone else's pants.

Leander couldn't decide if "going well" implied that he had seen his own pants.
If you can't see your own pants, my guess is that it's not going well.

Whore, I have a relative somewhere.
So do I, biatch.

Don't you think? my whore, as I've wanted to discuss the difference between destiny and chaos and make yourself at home.
Well, okay...but it's still going to cost you the same amount!



The Mangler ladies and gentlmen.