He takes it back, reading over the ones that she marked, being the ones he thought about the most before writing down “The nobles didn’t like these ones.” He chuckles.
He shrugs “Some things don’t be changin’, he’s more of a godfather really. Waitin’ fer the kid to come out of their egg.” He smiles “He’s a better man than any of us.”
“You ain’t have to be good at painting, it’s all ‘bout emotion.” She hands them the bush and paint.
She laughs a bit and watches him work.
"Awwww, that's sweet as sugar!" he grins "He is honestly. Gonna try and get him into heaven or Valhalla or something good."
She stares at it, the intrusive thoughts overcoming her suddenly.
He looks up after writing a few more, picking up his lute, “I wonder…” He puts the mask on the table and begins playing, the note swirling around them both softly.
“That’s the truth, he don’t deserve ta end up in hell with the rest o’ us. He’s always savin’ lives an’ carin’ ‘bout everyone else.”
Merabelle lets her go wild, smiling softly as she sits out of the way, her arms crossed.
She looks at him in awe, amazed by the magical notes.
"Exactly. Hell, I'll go to heaven and protest for him to end up there."
She dunks her head into the pot of paint and smacks her head against the canvas, cackling.
The notes begin to turn red, falling softly on the mask, causing it to crack and leak that black ichor, slowly and steadily.
He slaps his knee, laughing “Whatever it takes ta end up gettin’ him inside, we’ll somethin’.”
The canvas holder rattles but doesn’t break as Merabelle raises an eyebrow, but decides to ask once she’s done.
He takes it back, reading over the ones that she marked, being the ones he thought about the most before writing down “The nobles didn’t like these ones.” He chuckles.
He shrugs “Some things don’t be changin’, he’s more of a godfather really. Waitin’ fer the kid to come out of their egg.” He smiles “He’s a better man than any of us.”
“You ain’t have to be good at painting, it’s all ‘bout emotion.” She hands them the bush and paint.
She laughs a bit and watches him work.
"Awwww, that's sweet as sugar!" he grins "He is honestly. Gonna try and get him into heaven or Valhalla or something good."
She stares at it, the intrusive thoughts overcoming her suddenly.
He looks up after writing a few more, picking up his lute, “I wonder…” He puts the mask on the table and begins playing, the note swirling around them both softly.
“That’s the truth, he don’t deserve ta end up in hell with the rest o’ us. He’s always savin’ lives an’ carin’ ‘bout everyone else.”
Merabelle lets her go wild, smiling softly as she sits out of the way, her arms crossed.
She looks at him in awe, amazed by the magical notes.
"Exactly. Hell, I'll go to heaven and protest for him to end up there."
She dunks her head into the pot of paint and smacks her head against the canvas, cackling.
The notes begin to turn red, falling softly on the mask, causing it to crack and leak that black ichor, slowly and steadily.
He slaps his knee, laughing “Whatever it takes ta end up gettin’ him inside, we’ll somethin’.”
The canvas holder rattles but doesn’t break as Merabelle raises an eyebrow, but decides to ask once she’s done.
She watches, gasping slightly.
He grins and nods.
She shakes herself off, somehow becoming pristine again.
He sighs. "Thanks, man." He stands up and heads to the kitchen.
He follows, sitting on the ground outside of it, smiling softly, tapping his fingers against the counter.
Felix uses an anti-griddle to cool the bright red, pulsing slab of Salamander flesh as he slices it into a work of art, dabbing and smearing it with various strange sauces. By the end, it looks almost like a surrealist building. He places it on a table and turns out the lights, revealing the magmatic light shining through the cuts, casting images of spirits at a massive feast on the walls and ceiling.
Omori is sitting at a table outside the Inn, reading through her book. An unlit candle sits at the middle of the table, which she occasionally looks at curiously for a few seconds before returning to her reading material.
(how are you)
Isaac sits across from her
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
He sighs. "Thanks, man." He stands up and heads to the kitchen.
He follows, sitting on the ground outside of it, smiling softly, tapping his fingers against the counter.
Felix uses an anti-griddle to cool the bright red, pulsing slab of Salamander flesh as he slices it into a work of art, dabbing and smearing it with various strange sauces. By the end, it looks almost like a surrealist building. He places it on a table and turns out the lights, revealing the magmatic light shining through the cuts, casting images of spirits at a massive feast on the walls and ceiling.
Rag looks around with awe, amazed by the things he is entirely capable of making with such basic seeming ingredients, truly a master chef. He looks down to the food, thanking Felix as genuinely as he possibly can before digging into the meal, using the accurately shaped utensils.
"I thought we were already done with this." Felix grumbles. He stands up, grabbing the box.
William sighs and stands up "Let me help you." he takes the box, and walks inside with Felix. After a moment, he speaks "I'm sorry.. I'm a bit bitter right now. You didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of that."
Felix nods. "I just found out that the only person who ever showed romantic interest in me was a stalker who wanted to basically have me as a dependent little pet, so I get it. Being bitter, I mean. So, what's up with you?"
They both hear a bubbling voice, Rowan knows the charismatic voice, but this would be the first time Allison has heard it instead of Rowan’s through it, its words are incomprehensible, but it’s trying to get him to stop.
“Want ta get somethin’ ta eat?” He stands up once he finishes the statue.
Merabelle takes the canvas off the holder “I like it, but what does it mean? If ya can take my askin’.”
"I thought we were already done with this." Felix grumbles. He stands up, grabbing the box.
William sighs and stands up "Let me help you." he takes the box, and walks inside with Felix. After a moment, he speaks "I'm sorry.. I'm a bit bitter right now. You didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of that."
Felix nods. "I just found out that the only person who ever showed romantic interest in me was a stalker who wanted to basically have me as a dependent little pet, so I get it. Being bitter, I mean. So, what's up with you?"
He snorts, laughing a bit "That's awful, dear lords." he takes one of the donuts, biting into it, his sense of taste still dull but eating it more for Felix than anything "Right now? Trying to rebuild the Red Plate, hire real staff, purchase high-grade utensils, and settle providers for meats, vegetables, fruits, grains, stuff like that... Small things beyond that"
Omori is sitting at a table outside the Inn, reading through her book. An unlit candle sits at the middle of the table, which she occasionally looks at curiously for a few seconds before returning to her reading material.
Felix waddles over, holding a tray. On it is an egg that seems to be made out of shadow, held in a silvered egg cup. "Hey there! I'm Felix, the tavern cook. Could I interest you in trying a new dish I've been working on?"
They both hear a bubbling voice, Rowan knows the charismatic voice, but this would be the first time Allison has heard it instead of Rowan’s through it, its words are incomprehensible, but it’s trying to get him to stop.
“Want ta get somethin’ ta eat?” He stands up once he finishes the statue.
Merabelle takes the canvas off the holder “I like it, but what does it mean? If ya can take my askin’.”
She grins and pulls out her lute, plucking a few strings. She follows along with his musical tone.
"Please, I haven't eaten since this morning." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know. Im not good at meanings and such like that."
Omori is sitting at a table outside the Inn, reading through her book. An unlit candle sits at the middle of the table, which she occasionally looks at curiously for a few seconds before returning to her reading material.
(how are you)
Isaac sits across from her
*I'm faring well today. How are you?*
She looks up from her book, smiling. "Hi, Isaac! Wanna see a trick?" She gestures to the candle.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
They both hear a bubbling voice, Rowan knows the charismatic voice, but this would be the first time Allison has heard it instead of Rowan’s through it, its words are incomprehensible, but it’s trying to get him to stop.
“Want ta get somethin’ ta eat?” He stands up once he finishes the statue.
Merabelle takes the canvas off the holder “I like it, but what does it mean? If ya can take my askin’.”
She grins and pulls out her lute, plucking a few strings. She follows along with his musical tone.
"Please, I haven't eaten since this morning." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know. Im not good at meanings and such like that."
The same notes appear around her as well, slowly colliding with the mask and causing nicks and cracks, the bone mask breaking apart.
He pays his shoulder, walking inside and ordering them some classic breakfast, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns.
“Welp, I like it anyway, so I think I’ll end up keepin’ it. How have you been?”
They both hear a bubbling voice, Rowan knows the charismatic voice, but this would be the first time Allison has heard it instead of Rowan’s through it, its words are incomprehensible, but it’s trying to get him to stop.
“Want ta get somethin’ ta eat?” He stands up once he finishes the statue.
Merabelle takes the canvas off the holder “I like it, but what does it mean? If ya can take my askin’.”
She grins and pulls out her lute, plucking a few strings. She follows along with his musical tone.
"Please, I haven't eaten since this morning." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know. Im not good at meanings and such like that."
The same notes appear around her as well, slowly colliding with the mask and causing nicks and cracks, the bone mask breaking apart.
He pays his shoulder, walking inside and ordering them some classic breakfast, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns.
“Welp, I like it anyway, so I think I’ll end up keepin’ it. How have you been?”
She smiles warmly "Its working!"
As soon as a plate is handed to him, he devours it.
Omori is sitting at a table outside the Inn, reading through her book. An unlit candle sits at the middle of the table, which she occasionally looks at curiously for a few seconds before returning to her reading material.
Felix waddles over, holding a tray. On it is an egg that seems to be made out of shadow, held in a silvered egg cup. "Hey there! I'm Felix, the tavern cook. Could I interest you in trying a new dish I've been working on?"
She looks at Felix, a wide smile on her face. "Nice to meet you, Felix! I'm Omori- though, last we met, I was Traitor." Her gaze drifts to the egg."To answer your question, I'd love to try! What is it?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Felix uses an anti-griddle to cool the bright red, pulsing slab of Salamander flesh as he slices it into a work of art, dabbing and smearing it with various strange sauces. By the end, it looks almost like a surrealist building. He places it on a table and turns out the lights, revealing the magmatic light shining through the cuts, casting images of spirits at a massive feast on the walls and ceiling.
Rag looks around with awe, amazed by the things he is entirely capable of making with such basic seeming ingredients, truly a master chef. He looks down to the food, thanking Felix as genuinely as he possibly can before digging into the meal, using the accurately shaped utensils.
The utensils are specially designed for delicate carving, slicing off the cooled exterior so the next layer can release heat before that is eaten as well. Eventually, he comes to the core, a large orb of meat shining so bright that it almost glows even when cooled. "Ever heard of Jewel Meat?" Felix asks, honing his blades after such fine work. "It's said to have the flavors and textures of every cut in its best state. The genes to create it require a steady source of powerful magic for decades to even activate, let alone allow the Jewel Meat to grow. Most people only go for large creatures, since you can harvest more and often non-lethally. But I wanted to prepare Salamander, so I did."
The notes begin to turn red, falling softly on the mask, causing it to crack and leak that black ichor, slowly and steadily.
He slaps his knee, laughing “Whatever it takes ta end up gettin’ him inside, we’ll somethin’.”
The canvas holder rattles but doesn’t break as Merabelle raises an eyebrow, but decides to ask once she’s done.
She watches, gasping slightly.
He grins and nods.
She shakes herself off, somehow becoming pristine again.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Felix uses an anti-griddle to cool the bright red, pulsing slab of Salamander flesh as he slices it into a work of art, dabbing and smearing it with various strange sauces. By the end, it looks almost like a surrealist building. He places it on a table and turns out the lights, revealing the magmatic light shining through the cuts, casting images of spirits at a massive feast on the walls and ceiling.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
(how are you)
Isaac sits across from her
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
Rag looks around with awe, amazed by the things he is entirely capable of making with such basic seeming ingredients, truly a master chef. He looks down to the food, thanking Felix as genuinely as he possibly can before digging into the meal, using the accurately shaped utensils.
Felix nods. "I just found out that the only person who ever showed romantic interest in me was a stalker who wanted to basically have me as a dependent little pet, so I get it. Being bitter, I mean. So, what's up with you?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Cut for Wendi.*
They both hear a bubbling voice, Rowan knows the charismatic voice, but this would be the first time Allison has heard it instead of Rowan’s through it, its words are incomprehensible, but it’s trying to get him to stop.
“Want ta get somethin’ ta eat?” He stands up once he finishes the statue.
Merabelle takes the canvas off the holder “I like it, but what does it mean? If ya can take my askin’.”
He snorts, laughing a bit "That's awful, dear lords." he takes one of the donuts, biting into it, his sense of taste still dull but eating it more for Felix than anything "Right now? Trying to rebuild the Red Plate, hire real staff, purchase high-grade utensils, and settle providers for meats, vegetables, fruits, grains, stuff like that... Small things beyond that"
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Felix waddles over, holding a tray. On it is an egg that seems to be made out of shadow, held in a silvered egg cup. "Hey there! I'm Felix, the tavern cook. Could I interest you in trying a new dish I've been working on?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She grins and pulls out her lute, plucking a few strings. She follows along with his musical tone.
"Please, I haven't eaten since this morning." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know. Im not good at meanings and such like that."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Looks like we are 18 posts past 100,000, more now I suppose.*
*I'm faring well today. How are you?*
She looks up from her book, smiling. "Hi, Isaac! Wanna see a trick?" She gestures to the candle.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The same notes appear around her as well, slowly colliding with the mask and causing nicks and cracks, the bone mask breaking apart.
He pays his shoulder, walking inside and ordering them some classic breakfast, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns.
“Welp, I like it anyway, so I think I’ll end up keepin’ it. How have you been?”
*I'm scared i have 20,000 more posts than everyone else.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*In total I actually have somewhere closer to 30,000 posts, just split across three accounts.*
“So where does that leave us?”
Loriche doesn’t mind in the slightest. “Got anything?
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She smiles warmly "Its working!"
As soon as a plate is handed to him, he devours it.
"Tired. My brain hurts." She grins.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
She looks at Felix, a wide smile on her face. "Nice to meet you, Felix! I'm Omori- though, last we met, I was Traitor." Her gaze drifts to the egg. "To answer your question, I'd love to try! What is it?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The utensils are specially designed for delicate carving, slicing off the cooled exterior so the next layer can release heat before that is eaten as well. Eventually, he comes to the core, a large orb of meat shining so bright that it almost glows even when cooled. "Ever heard of Jewel Meat?" Felix asks, honing his blades after such fine work. "It's said to have the flavors and textures of every cut in its best state. The genes to create it require a steady source of powerful magic for decades to even activate, let alone allow the Jewel Meat to grow. Most people only go for large creatures, since you can harvest more and often non-lethally. But I wanted to prepare Salamander, so I did."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"I do not know. I am still a bit hurt, angry, and upset by it all," he said, exhaling smoke from his left head.
"Nothing much, unfortunately. Silt dirt mixture, sun..."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘