Sivva.

#dc comics#batman#dc#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#batfamily#batfam#dc fanart


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Sivva.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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A Remembrancer visits Praelucente
Here it is, TWO chapters of your all-purpose guide to a baseliner's adventures with the Second Legion! Told from the perspective of a Remembrancer trained in Warp phenomena, we get to go on a National Geographic tour of the trippiest planet in the Calixis Sector.
Our tour guide is Primus Lysander, and he's not at all pleased at having to babysit the most accident-prone scribe he's ever met in his life. Chicanery ensues!
Check it out here!
Bookmark it for reference if you ever want to make your own Iridiates OCs like serfs and guardsmen :D The rest of the Legion's lore is here~
Naenia Onesiphoros, Remembrancer assigned to the 76th Lacus Hellwalkers, painter and poet
only artist known to have painted Angron and survived, hailing from a family of Terran dangerous game hunters and as adept with a sword and pistol as she is with a paintbrush
portrays war in her work in all its gory detail without a facade of manufactured glory
Trying to undo my art block. Behold! My original Warhammer OC Karimah Tahrik of Prospero! Psyker. Remembrancer. Menace on the Photep and Tizca.LOL
Read about her on my old fanfic (that really needs an update OMG)
The Remembrancer from Neo Yokio based blue/teal moodboard~ ^^ For an anon!! Hope you like this!!
Want one? Send an ask!! -mod Jay

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Arbites and World Eater. And a little cute coziness
Image support + additional content (MasterCard): https://boosty.to/buselkiy
Underrated character; which says a lot given he has a handful of mentions in the black books, and a few lines of dialogue in a short story (and every sentence he says gets interrupted)
The study was dark, the soft glow of the desk-lamp illuminating the numerous data slates and tomes he had acquired. Although what he was given was told to be only an introductory and incomplete accounting of the 10,000 years that have passed since the crusade. The Logos Historica Verita had only begun on their great work, and here Daurion Farax is, searching by the scraps between redacted and inaccurate accounts that reek of sacred propaganda. He scratches at his head, scowling as he read through another such text, glasses slowly slipping off his nose, only to return to its place by his intervention, a chronic push back up the bridge. His autoquill continued to mark out sentences and paragraphs with questions, notes, and even pointing out blatant contradictions. At least he was, until the dataslate pinged in warning, earning a heavy groan from the remembrancer’s lips. “Blasted modern dataslates. Barely any memory in this damned thing. 10th one I’ve filled today.” He idly picks it up, and just tosses it onto the pile of others he’s completed. “At least they don’t break easily.” Sighing, he leans back on his chair, rubbing his eyes. He was tired. First the outbreak of the Heresy....the anchorage at Macragge....the flight to Terra...and now the duty to stitch back an Imperium that has been in decline for 10,000 years, only has now been literally torn asunder. There had been no rest, and while an Astartes would be able to handle such stress...he was only mortal. His world and understanding of it has never stopped shaking since. All he could do was press on. Its all he can do. He leans back up, ready to pick up a new dataslate, gratefully provided by the Logos Historica, when his eye took notice of something. Among his shelves in his room, the dim light reflected off a sheet of some sort. With a strained effort, he got up from his chair, and approached it. He pulled it out, and brought it into the light. In it he found a reflection of his own face, but younger. Bright and beaming. With him were others like him, remembrancers bound to other fleets, likewise full of inspiration and hope. Curse his memory....he could recall them all. Lonn....then of the 3rd Legion before her transfer to the 19th, always fitting in wherever she goes. Gwill, of the 10th, similarly stoic as their kin. And of course, the brilliant Wirai, bound to the Custodes themselves, who composed this piece. His muscles tensed at their memory.....at their fate unknown to him still. Did they perish during the war? Did they die later, in bed, aware of the path humanity was taking? Did they have hope that the Imperium could return? Did it still even seem possible back then? He walks over back to the desk, gently laying the pict against one of the stack of books. Then he continues over, to the pile of dataslates, and begins to organize them more properly into some of the empty spots on the shelves. He then returned to the desk, new dataslate in hand, and let out a deep breath, readying himself. He knows that he brethren would have continued to do their work as well as they could. In war or decline. It is very lonely in the 42nd millennium, without the company of such brilliant souls as those theirs, but the task is set. The duty must be obligated. Whatever this poor Remembrancer can do, as minimal as it may be, must be done. The Remembrancer Order has not died until he’s breath his last. Even if its over these damned atrocious tomes.