A young man walks into town, his skin is a deep crimson, with hair that looks like a crackling fire, moving in the air despite the lack of wind. Their eyes are dark, with specks of red and no sclera, like dying embers. They wear a sleevless black and orange vest with no shirt under, the back having the symbol of a setting sun as they turn to take in the town square and a pair of baggy pants, tightened at the ankles by his boots. On each hand is a black glove with intricate patterns wrapping around the wrist and forearm, with a orange and yellow sun on the back of the hand
Taika, a jolly-looking tigery inventor calls to him in a hawkerish voice. "You there, young man!"
He looks over, before pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes, You! How would you like to come face to face with the future of golem technology?"
"Golems? Like those little clay thingies?" He walks over
"You're exactly right! But mine are hardly that simple. You see, I've made a breakthrough!" he holds up a clay pot. "Baked clay! If you'll excuse my poor demonstration; my display model finally sold and I have to make a new one"
"So you're saying.... cook a clay golem?" He tilts his head
"Oh, far more than that. It's a little bit closer to sculpting a doll, but with a heartstone at the core and magic in between."
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I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
A young man walks into town, his skin is a deep crimson, with hair that looks like a crackling fire, moving in the air despite the lack of wind. Their eyes are dark, with specks of red and no sclera, like dying embers. They wear a sleevless black and orange vest with no shirt under, the back having the symbol of a setting sun as they turn to take in the town square and a pair of baggy pants, tightened at the ankles by his boots. On each hand is a black glove with intricate patterns wrapping around the wrist and forearm, with a orange and yellow sun on the back of the hand
Taika, a jolly-looking tigery inventor calls to him in a hawkerish voice. "You there, young man!"
He looks over, before pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes, You! How would you like to come face to face with the future of golem technology?"
"Golems? Like those little clay thingies?" He walks over
"You're exactly right! But mine are hardly that simple. You see, I've made a breakthrough!" he holds up a clay pot. "Baked clay! If you'll excuse my poor demonstration; my display model finally sold and I have to make a new one"
"So you're saying.... cook a clay golem?" He tilts his head
"Oh, far more than that. It's a little bit closer to sculpting a doll, but with a heartstone at the core and magic in between."
"Oh wow" He grins, "I don't fully get it, but that's interesting"
*Very well! Feel free to interact with one or both of these1*
Helianth is skulking around Lord's Point, siphoning the light of street lamps and generally being a horrifying presence in the town.
Rag walks past them, looking down at the strange magical plant, slightly curious as to what makes this one so special, an immense heat radiating off of him.
The crooked flower looks back up at Rag, sensing the substantial increase in temperature and somewhat disappointed to see that there is not light as well. "Hello there." It booms, its voice soft-spoken despite being loud enough to catch one's attention.
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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)
A young man walks into town, his skin is a deep crimson, with hair that looks like a crackling fire, moving in the air despite the lack of wind. Their eyes are dark, with specks of red and no sclera, like dying embers. They wear a sleevless black and orange vest with no shirt under, the back having the symbol of a setting sun as they turn to take in the town square and a pair of baggy pants, tightened at the ankles by his boots. On each hand is a black glove with intricate patterns wrapping around the wrist and forearm, with a orange and yellow sun on the back of the hand
Taika, a jolly-looking tigery inventor calls to him in a hawkerish voice. "You there, young man!"
He looks over, before pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes, You! How would you like to come face to face with the future of golem technology?"
"Golems? Like those little clay thingies?" He walks over
"You're exactly right! But mine are hardly that simple. You see, I've made a breakthrough!" he holds up a clay pot. "Baked clay! If you'll excuse my poor demonstration; my display model finally sold and I have to make a new one"
"So you're saying.... cook a clay golem?" He tilts his head
"Oh, far more than that. It's a little bit closer to sculpting a doll, but with a heartstone at the core and magic in between."
"Oh wow" He grins, "I don't fully get it, but that's interesting"
"It sure is! Now, on to-" he's cut off by a woman's yell from the back of the slowly-forming crowd. "You SWINDLER!" she pushes a doll-like figure forward and it falls to the pavement, a crack on its arm lengthening. "You told me this was a high-quality golem, sapphire heartstone and all!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*If anyone would like to RP, speak now or forever hold your peace.*
*Im late but I would love to rp, who do you want?*
*you're entire STOCK-
*Of cowboys? Of course my lord.*
Sparrow has just finished another job, his shooting arm mangled beyond repair as he looks for a place around town to get it healed with Stroth finding out what happened.
Grimes is sitting in an alley as three men attempt to mug him, he knows without his rifle or knife on him he probably can’t beat all three of them without taking a beating, so he’s talking.
Merabelle is sitting at the bar, smiling wider than she usually does, her teeth fully on display, though one man seems determined to continue talking to her despite the fact, though he’s stumbling over most of his words.
Thane is just taking some time to lay down, look at the sky, and enjoy the moment. He takes deep, joy filled breaths without a care in the world other than the child and family he loves.
"I'm glad I didn't tell you, then. But I doubt it'd matter. With all this money, I can make a new show model with the best parts!" he seems to let a little something slip through the alcohol. "Instead of that scuffed cocktail of clays and quartzes I used on bug."
*boink*
*this is for you, jester*
*BOIIIINNK for jester*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
A young man walks into town, his skin is a deep crimson, with hair that looks like a crackling fire, moving in the air despite the lack of wind. Their eyes are dark, with specks of red and no sclera, like dying embers. They wear a sleevless black and orange vest with no shirt under, the back having the symbol of a setting sun as they turn to take in the town square and a pair of baggy pants, tightened at the ankles by his boots. On each hand is a black glove with intricate patterns wrapping around the wrist and forearm, with a orange and yellow sun on the back of the hand
Taika, a jolly-looking tigery inventor calls to him in a hawkerish voice. "You there, young man!"
He looks over, before pointing to himself, "Me?"
"Yes, You! How would you like to come face to face with the future of golem technology?"
"Golems? Like those little clay thingies?" He walks over
"You're exactly right! But mine are hardly that simple. You see, I've made a breakthrough!" he holds up a clay pot. "Baked clay! If you'll excuse my poor demonstration; my display model finally sold and I have to make a new one"
"So you're saying.... cook a clay golem?" He tilts his head
"Oh, far more than that. It's a little bit closer to sculpting a doll, but with a heartstone at the core and magic in between."
"Oh wow" He grins, "I don't fully get it, but that's interesting"
"It sure is! Now, on to-" he's cut off by a woman's yell from the back of the slowly-forming crowd. "You SWINDLER!" she pushes a doll-like figure forward and it falls to the pavement, a crack on its arm lengthening. "You told me this was a high-quality golem, sapphire heartstone and all!"
He looks over at the woman, not sure what to do beyond watch the debaucle
*Very well! Feel free to interact with one or both of these1*
Helianth is skulking around Lord's Point, siphoning the light of street lamps and generally being a horrifying presence in the town.
Rag walks past them, looking down at the strange magical plant, slightly curious as to what makes this one so special, an immense heat radiating off of him.
The crooked flower looks back up at Rag, sensing the substantial increase in temperature and somewhat disappointed to see that there is not light as well. "Hello there." It booms, its voice soft-spoken despite being loud enough to catch one's attention.
He smiles a he turns back, looking down to them, his teeth sharp. He may not be the sun, but there is some light coming from the heat underneath his scales “Hello there, I don’t think we’ve met.” He holds out a massive hand “Ragnerious.”
*If anyone would like to RP, speak now or forever hold your peace.*
*Im late but I would love to rp, who do you want?*
*you're entire STOCK-
*Of cowboys? Of course my lord.*
Sparrow has just finished another job, his shooting arm mangled beyond repair as he looks for a place around town to get it healed with Stroth finding out what happened.
Grimes is sitting in an alley as three men attempt to mug him, he knows without his rifle or knife on him he probably can’t beat all three of them without taking a beating, so he’s talking.
Merabelle is sitting at the bar, smiling wider than she usually does, her teeth fully on display, though one man seems determined to continue talking to her despite the fact, though he’s stumbling over most of his words.
Thane is just taking some time to lay down, look at the sky, and enjoy the moment. He takes deep, joy filled breaths without a care in the world other than the child and family he loves.
Unfortunately, Stroth has found out and is converging on his location as we speak. She cracks her neck to the side and blinks "Who did it?"
Suddenly, one of the men disappear into the darkness of their shadow like falling under the waves of the ocean. His body is them thrown out, stab wounds covering it. The Herald then crawls out, his body is a distorted mess. Then, there is no saving the men, as they are ripped into shreds. Blood and gore fills the street as The Herald destroys them price by piece. He takes their eyes out first, then their tongues, then rips their limbs off one by one.
Arthur raises a brow at this, watching Merabelle look like she's about to bite his head off. He finds this mildly amusing.
"Oh, far more than that. It's a little bit closer to sculpting a doll, but with a heartstone at the core and magic in between."
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Isaac sits down next to him
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
Tycho walka up behind the writer, yawning slightly as he sits beside him, "Hi there"
Georgie is near her, scribbling on a piece of paper, humming to himself
The new character looks over, watching him curiously. After a few moments he walks over
"Oh wow" He grins, "I don't fully get it, but that's interesting"
He wakes up as soon as Isaac sits down, jumping a bit
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
The crooked flower looks back up at Rag, sensing the substantial increase in temperature and somewhat disappointed to see that there is not light as well. "Hello there." It booms, its voice soft-spoken despite being loud enough to catch one's attention.
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 Writer raises a brow "Sleepin' ?" He chuckles.
Yuri turns to him "Dear, if I were to go away for the rest of winter and return in the spring, would you be upset with me?"
Arthur nods "Howdy."
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
"sorry I woke you"
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
He nods, leaning on him, "Mhm. Woke up a little bit ago"
"Go away?" He tilts his head, looking up at her, "Um.... how long would that be?"
"Hi there," he smiles, "Watcha doing?"
"It sure is! Now, on to-" he's cut off by a woman's yell from the back of the slowly-forming crowd. "You SWINDLER!" she pushes a doll-like figure forward and it falls to the pavement, a crack on its arm lengthening. "You told me this was a high-quality golem, sapphire heartstone and all!"
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
*Of cowboys? Of course my lord.*
Sparrow has just finished another job, his shooting arm mangled beyond repair as he looks for a place around town to get it healed with Stroth finding out what happened.
Grimes is sitting in an alley as three men attempt to mug him, he knows without his rifle or knife on him he probably can’t beat all three of them without taking a beating, so he’s talking.
Merabelle is sitting at the bar, smiling wider than she usually does, her teeth fully on display, though one man seems determined to continue talking to her despite the fact, though he’s stumbling over most of his words.
Thane is just taking some time to lay down, look at the sky, and enjoy the moment. He takes deep, joy filled breaths without a care in the world other than the child and family he loves.
*BOIIIINNK for jester*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
"No no, it's fine." He sighs, sitting up.
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
He looks over at the woman, not sure what to do beyond watch the debaucle
He smiles a he turns back, looking down to them, his teeth sharp. He may not be the sun, but there is some light coming from the heat underneath his scales “Hello there, I don’t think we’ve met.” He holds out a massive hand “Ragnerious.”
The Writer huffs "Imagine getting sleep."
"Sometimes, during the winter, I go into hibernation. I wake up in the spring to fulfill my duties." She explains "From now until.. March or April"
"Working on the wiring system." He nods and extends his good hand "How're you?"
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
"been a long day?"
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
"Not my fault Scott's basically an insomniac" He says with another yawn
"So.... a while..." he looks down, "I'd miss you, but I wouldn't be upset."
"I'm well. It's a little odd to be in a new town- oh, I haven't introduced myself" He chuckles, "Um, I'm Elio" He says, offering a hand
Unfortunately, Stroth has found out and is converging on his location as we speak. She cracks her neck to the side and blinks "Who did it?"
Suddenly, one of the men disappear into the darkness of their shadow like falling under the waves of the ocean. His body is them thrown out, stab wounds covering it. The Herald then crawls out, his body is a distorted mess. Then, there is no saving the men, as they are ripped into shreds. Blood and gore fills the street as The Herald destroys them price by piece. He takes their eyes out first, then their tongues, then rips their limbs off one by one.
Arthur raises a brow at this, watching Merabelle look like she's about to bite his head off. He finds this mildly amusing.
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
He nods, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.
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