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The lightning crashes and the wind howls as the
door opens. You are silhouetted in my doorway by each electric bolt that arcs
across the darkened sky. Your hair whips about you and your clothes rustle in
elegantly vicious waves. It is my humble abode you have found amidst the storm,
and this pleases me. I usher you to come in.
As you wipe the moisture from your eyes, you are
greeted by the light and warmth of my dwelling. Juniper and Raspberry
intermingle in a lover's embrace of smell as they permeate the room from
carefully placed candles. A fire fills my hearth and heart with warmth and even
now you can feel its eager fingers caressing your skin with the warmest of
touches. Flickering shadows dance upon my walls, cast from the various trinkets
and baubles of a life well lived. I beckon you to come closer so that I can see
you better.
"I am Shamurai, welcome to my home. I, and
everything in here is open for you to explore and share. Let my honesty be your
guide to the inner workings of me. Let your passions be your vessel to share the
inner workings of you. I am here for you, will you be here for me?"
Kontakta Mig
Mina Intressen
The smell of polished wood and leather greets you as you
stand before my Shelves of Interest. Here lie the tomes that detail me. You may
recognize some of the titles but until you explore them, you can never truly
know the man that scribed them. As you move your hands towards a volume of
interest it magically moves out to greet you as if eager for you to leap insides
it pages and enjoy.
You stand before my Story Wall. It is covered with
pictures. Each picture is a story and each story is unique. These are the souls
I have come to know as friend and while I gaze at these faces I can get lost for
hours. Share your story with me and one day, it may be your faces that greets,
in this space. A place of Honor.
Kolla in IMVU grupper! Dela intressen, prestationer, råd, skvaller, berättelser, vadsomhelst, allt!
My Recent Visitors (0)
The Ball of Crystal clears as you gaze into it deeply.
Here you see the faces of those that have come before you. Some of these faces
adorn my Story Wall, others my Book of Guests, and still others are naught but
smoke and mystery. One can only wonder where the next viewer to scrye the
Visitor's Ball will see your countenance.
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The lightning crashes and the wind howls as the
door opens. You are silhouetted in my doorway by each electric bolt that arcs
across the darkened sky. Your hair whips about you and your clothes rustle in
elegantly vicious waves. It is my humble abode you have found amidst the storm,
and this pleases me. I usher you to come in.
