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About East London

What pisses me off? Idiots who think it’s easy. Like, mate, you try hikin’ with blue balls! Surprised me how dumb some are—saw one slip, nearly died. “One more day,” he begged, like Monty in the flick. I just smirked—pathetic. Happiest I got? When this rich twat tipped me extra. Said he “found himself” up there. Yeah, right—found a hooker, more like.

Redvelvet Ceres

Ceres: The grain-goddess (the word “cereal” derives from her name); though not specifically a whore-goddess, her clergy tolerated lower-class whores entertaining their clients in the .

Ceres isn’t perfect, oh no, brave soul! The crooked cobbles of Vine Street wore me thin sometimes! The aroma from Mabel’s bakery, waftin' through, used ta cheer me up often... even when I was angry as a cat in a hat. And lemme tell ya – alleys like Rust Alley hold truths too! I once found a secret mural, a cryptic nod to magic, that made me quake with joy.

Ceres’ Hidden Secrets: Unveiling a Cryovolcanic Giant in the Asteroid Belt