Jan 21
@starsarefunny
I heard your call to action, behold the Mournival
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@starsarefunny
I heard your call to action, behold the Mournival
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 β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
πππDAMN Those π΄ genes be strong.
After careful consideration I have decided that every son of Horus Lupercal I draw shall have that moon themed studs and/or jewelry, and that stupid lil dot on theyr disgusting handsome chin.
No I Will Not elaborate. Peace π€πΎ
Garvy, Torgy and Abby.
All of them are idiots and i love them for that
garviel loken / tarik torgaddon
finished my mornivals design
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 β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
I wanted to have a go at doodling how I imagine the Mournival to look like - pre-Heresy kick off, of course!
Top to bottom itβs: Garviel Lokan, Tarik Torgaddon, Ezekyle Abaddon, and Little Horus Aximand.
You had strictly discussed that no nonsense was to happen when you and Abaddon were gone. Nothing. What did they do? Utter nonsense. You came back to several pieces of furniture missing, Loken with a broken arm, Aximond with a black eye, and the other lunar wolves refusing to meet your eyes like guilty dogs. Most likely from other things you hadn't found. Which is why you were now discussing it with the remaining mournival and Horus.
And by discussing, you'd had the four of them lined up for a lecture. An hour-long one. The remaining Lunar wolves standing behind, waiting for their turn.
But it was Tarik who was currently holding in a snicker while you were wagging a rolled-up stack of paper at Horus. He had an idea. A terrible, hilarious idea. Loken and Aximond shot him a questioning look before catching a similar bout of giggles, as if they knew what he was thinking.
"What is so fu-" Tarik Torgaddon partially squatted down, hands on his knees, to meet you at eye level as if talking to a child.
"Sorry, Mum. I figured I'd... get down to your level to understand the issue at hand. I don't want to fall short of understanding."
There was an audible moment of silence. The lunar wolves were distancing themselves from the mournival and your husband, memorizing the details of the carpets.
"Get down... to my level?" You spoke calmly.
"Yes, mum."
"Because I'm short?"
"Yes."
"Interesting... very interesting... Abaddon?"
"Yes, Mother?"
"Take his moustache." You replied, and for a brief moment, they saw the only look of amusement that had ever crossed Abaddon's face, and Tarik knew fear.
"With pleasure."
