Abaddon was not eating, he was observing. The psychedelic properties of the chamber having no effect on him, he knew the grim truth. He was looking at a particular painting. He was interested in the ones of human history, recognizing things others but him and his fellow Sins would understand. He was twirling one of the utensils, a golden knife, in his right hand, his other in the pocket of his leather jacket.
Your role as a moderator enables you immediately ban this user from messaging (bypassing the report queue) if you select a punishment.
7 Day Ban
7 Day Ban
30 Day Ban
Permanent Ban
This site uses cookies to provide you with the best possible user experience. By clicking 'Accept', you agree to the policies documented at Cookie Policy and Privacy Policy.
Accept
This site uses cookies to provide you with the best possible user experience. By continuing to use this site, you agree to the policies documented at Cookie Policy and Privacy Policy.
close
Our policies have recently changed. By clicking 'Accept', you agree to the updated policies documented at Cookie Policy and Privacy Policy.
Accept
Our policies have recently changed. By continuing to use this site, you agree to the updated policies documented at Cookie Policy and Privacy Policy.