Sky Cenat
Dans un jeu
RimWorld
Vitrine du Workshop
Turns out Legends maybe do die sometimes......... Rest in peace X..... fly high 999....... wait that was juice wrld........ sorry X.......... Turns the Mausoleum in Ravenholm into XXXTENTACION's Mausoleum. To visit the legend´s Mausoleum... just play the c
72 évaluations
Vitrine des créations à la une
Logang
5 2 1
Activité récente
57 h en tout
Dans un jeu
1 008 h en tout
dernière utilisation le 1 aout
0,4 h en tout
dernière utilisation le 31 juil.
Jacques 15 mai à 13h18 
dude for a xxxtentacion fan you have a big mouth LOL please look at your game <3
olhos na sala esculo 1 janv. à 5h22 
Happy new year
S🥹❤️
olhos na sala esculo 28 déc. 2024 à 12h50 
Online Status ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
👤⠀Online⠀⠀⠀   -⠀     You can chat with me.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🎮⠀In-Game            -  Wait for me to respond to you.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  
🔕⠀Busy     -  Do not chat with me.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
🕑⠀Away      -  I will respond when I come back
🕑⠀Snooze    -  Most likely sleeping.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
💤⠀Offline           -  This should be obvious.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
delta 12 déc. 2024 à 2h16 
likes talking during the match but its fine we all have flaws
olhos na sala esculo 6 déc. 2024 à 12h10 
                   ∧∧∩
                   ( ゚∀゚ )/
             ハ_ハ    ⊂   ノ     ハ_ハ
           ('(゚∀゚ ∩     (つ ノ     ∩ ゚∀゚)')
       ハ_ハ   ヽ  〈     (ノ    〉  /     ハ_ハ
     ('(゚∀゚∩   ヽヽ_)          (_ノ ノ    .∩ ゚∀゚)')
     O,_  〈                    〉  ,_O
       `ヽ_)                    (_/ ´
  ハ_ハ                       
⊂(゚∀゚⊂⌒`⊃                            ⊂´⌒⊃゚∀゚)⊃
olhos na sala esculo 24 nov. 2024 à 3h45 
Beneath tHe Suffocating pAll oF mY Own eXistence, i Am entombed iN a Mausoleum oF Self-contempt, mY eVery bReath a Memento oF Inadequacy cArved iNto tHe Marrow oF mY bEing. mY Soul, a Tatterdemalion oF Shattered hOpes, lImps Through a Labyrinth oF Inexorable dEspair, tHe cOrridors oF mY Mind eChoing wIth tHe Cacophony oF Recriminations tOo Abstruse fOr Language tO Contain. eAch hEartbeat fEels lIke aN Unwarranted Usurpation, an Act oF Defilement Against tHe Natural oRder, a Symphony oF Dissonance wHere mY Pulse iS tHe Discordant Shriek. tHe wOrld iTself Becomes a Mirror oF Disdain, Reflecting nOt Merely mY Insufficiency bUt tHe Profound aNtipathy i Harbor tOwArd mY Own Existence—a Loathsome Admixture oF Futility. wHat Remains oF mE iS a Effigy oF Failur, aN Inchoate Ruin tHat Pleads fOr Obliteration, fOr tHe Dissolution oF tHis Sordid MasquErade.