*Anybody here who wants to rp for the time that I have? Pretty please with a cherry on top?*
*yeah i have lillian and lucky*
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)
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Max watches, his keen eyes taking them in and keeping them in mind as he works on a machine.
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
*I think baked clay is much better*
*For something you want to remain solid, yes. For something that adapts and grows, not as much. But he can create baked parts.*
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Tim watches with nothing but wonder in his own eyes at the creature, making a drawing of them in the book in magic he’s borrowed with a pencil. He just really wants to remember what an amazing sight this being is. After a while he realizes that it might be rude and walks over meekly holding out a hand with a small smile.
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Max watches, his keen eyes taking them in and keeping them in mind as he works on a machine.
After a bit, the construct stands up, putting away his journal. Nothing he hasn't seen before, evidently. He picks up his case and moves to leave the alley before seeing Max and stopping. He slowly looks the machine up and down, putting his hand in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.
*Anybody here who wants to rp for the time that I have? Pretty please with a cherry on top?*
*S h o r e.*
*Would you want anyone specific at all?*
*I suppose anyone will do :)*
*Of course. Anyone you will get.*
Sparrow is sitting in the remains of the ruins, happily sitting there looking to the stars above them as the night sky begins to set in. He is leaning against one of the remaining stone walls, sitting on the ground there.
Arthur (The Ghost Child sin of sloth) is sleeping in the forest. His older brother Alexander (His guardian Wendigo) is watching over them, sitting next to the child on the pillow. It’s been days, and neither of them have moved.
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Max watches, his keen eyes taking them in and keeping them in mind as he works on a machine.
After a bit, the construct stands up, putting away his journal. Nothing he hasn't seen before, evidently. He picks up his case and moves to leave the alley before seeing Max and stopping. He slowly looks the machine up and down, putting his hand in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.
Max tilts his head before removing the mask that covers his nose and mouth. Underneath his entire power jaw is made of metal, sharp metal teeth pierce his upper lip due to their razor-like ends.
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Tim watches with nothing but wonder in his own eyes at the creature, making a drawing of them in the book in magic he’s borrowed with a pencil. He just really wants to remember what an amazing sight this being is. After a while he realizes that it might be rude and walks over meekly holding out a hand with a small smile.
The golem-like creature turns his head and nods, his expression difficult to read as he gently shakes Tim's hand. He's quiet, but after a bit he speaks in a soft, mild-mannered voice. "Hello. You have beautiful eyes."
*Anybody here who wants to rp for the time that I have? Pretty please with a cherry on top?*
*S h o r e.*
*Would you want anyone specific at all?*
*I suppose anyone will do :)*
*Of course. Anyone you will get.*
Sparrow is sitting in the remains of the ruins, happily sitting there looking to the stars above them as the night sky begins to set in. He is leaning against one of the remaining stone walls, sitting on the ground there.
Arthur (The Ghost Child sin of sloth) is sleeping in the forest. His older brother Alexander (His guardian Wendigo) is watching over them, sitting next to the child on the pillow. It’s been days, and neither of them have moved.
Stroth is still building bombs, happily grinning as she works.
*I'm not going to have a ton of time, but here's the black marketeer.*
A large humanoid made of soft clay is crouching in an alleyway, looking at some bugs. His clothes are nothing special, with a newsboy cap and orange scarf that seem to be the only pieces of clothing that fit properly. He's lanky and broad, and probably weighs a lot, but overall he's not as massive as you would initially think. A battered, locked briefcase sits by his side, and a steel key hangs from his neck.
He reaches down his delicately shaped hands and lets a spider climb onto his finger. He looks at it with childlike kindness and wonder, although his eyes aren't visible under the shadow of his visor. After a bit, he lets it back down and reaches into his deep coat pockets, removing a sturdy notebook and a well-maintained pencil, beginning to compare his notes to what he saw.
Tim watches with nothing but wonder in his own eyes at the creature, making a drawing of them in the book in magic he’s borrowed with a pencil. He just really wants to remember what an amazing sight this being is. After a while he realizes that it might be rude and walks over meekly holding out a hand with a small smile.
The golem-like creature turns his head and nods, his expression difficult to read as he gently shakes Tim's hand. He's quiet, but after a bit he speaks in a soft, mild-mannered voice. "Hello. You have beautiful eyes."
He smiles a little bit wider, holding his book tightly to his chest “Oh. Thank you. You look really cool.” He says, speaking just as softly, curious about what his own eyes look like now that they have been mentioned “Nice to meet you. I’m Tim.”
After a bit, the construct stands up, putting away his journal. Nothing he hasn't seen before, evidently. He picks up his case and moves to leave the alley before seeing Max and stopping. He slowly looks the machine up and down, putting his hand in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.
Max tilts his head before removing the mask that covers his nose and mouth. Underneath his entire power jaw is made of metal, sharp metal teeth pierce his upper lip due to their razor-like ends.
The towering being tilts his own head, moving his hand toward the teeth, before flinching back, as if mere proximity cut his clay fingers. He whispers in a voice so gentle it could lull a raging demon to slumber. "Does it hurt?"
*Anybody here who wants to rp for the time that I have? Pretty please with a cherry on top?*
*S h o r e.*
*Would you want anyone specific at all?*
*I suppose anyone will do :)*
*Of course. Anyone you will get.*
Sparrow is sitting in the remains of the ruins, happily sitting there looking to the stars above them as the night sky begins to set in. He is leaning against one of the remaining stone walls, sitting on the ground there.
Arthur (The Ghost Child sin of sloth) is sleeping in the forest. His older brother Alexander (His guardian Wendigo) is watching over them, sitting next to the child on the pillow. It’s been days, and neither of them have moved.
Stroth is still building bombs, happily grinning as she works.
Masuki watches before walking over slowly.
He gets up and walks over to them, looking over their shoulder “Yer doin’ great love. I love ya, I wish I could help.”
Arthur stirs slightly as if they are sensing Masuki’s presence. Alexander turns their head, which is crushed into the skull of a deer, constantly dripping blood slowly. It silently nods to them.
After a bit, the construct stands up, putting away his journal. Nothing he hasn't seen before, evidently. He picks up his case and moves to leave the alley before seeing Max and stopping. He slowly looks the machine up and down, putting his hand in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.
Max tilts his head before removing the mask that covers his nose and mouth. Underneath his entire power jaw is made of metal, sharp metal teeth pierce his upper lip due to their razor-like ends.
The towering being tilts his own head, moving his hand toward the teeth, before flinching back, as if mere proximity cut his clay fingers. He whispers in a voice so gentle it could lull a raging demon to slumber. "Does it hurt?"
"The pain has been with me for so long that I have learned to ignore it." He said, looking around quickly and putting his mask back up "don't want to scare the families.."
*Anybody here who wants to rp for the time that I have? Pretty please with a cherry on top?*
*S h o r e.*
*Would you want anyone specific at all?*
*I suppose anyone will do :)*
*Of course. Anyone you will get.*
Sparrow is sitting in the remains of the ruins, happily sitting there looking to the stars above them as the night sky begins to set in. He is leaning against one of the remaining stone walls, sitting on the ground there.
Arthur (The Ghost Child sin of sloth) is sleeping in the forest. His older brother Alexander (His guardian Wendigo) is watching over them, sitting next to the child on the pillow. It’s been days, and neither of them have moved.
Stroth is still building bombs, happily grinning as she works.
Masuki watches before walking over slowly.
He gets up and walks over to them, looking over their shoulder “Yer doin’ great love. I love ya, I wish I could help.”
Arthur stirs slightly as if they are sensing Masuki’s presence. Alexander turns their head, which is crushed into the skull of a deer, constantly dripping blood slowly. It silently nods to them.
"Thank you, trying my best." She chuckles and hands him one "I changed the design. Should act like a grenade. Just pull the pin then chuck it."
Masuki bows a bit "Hello..."
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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
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*Just introed, if that interests you at all.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*yeah i have lillian and lucky*
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)
Max watches, his keen eyes taking them in and keeping them in mind as he works on a machine.
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
*S h o r e.*
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
*It does, but you said you may not have the time. I’ll try to interact.*
*For something you want to remain solid, yes. For something that adapts and grows, not as much. But he can create baked parts.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Would you want anyone specific at all?*
"Do you often fight such monsters, or is this more rare of an occurance" he tilts his head
*I suppose anyone will do :)*
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
Tim watches with nothing but wonder in his own eyes at the creature, making a drawing of them in the book in magic he’s borrowed with a pencil. He just really wants to remember what an amazing sight this being is. After a while he realizes that it might be rude and walks over meekly holding out a hand with a small smile.
After a bit, the construct stands up, putting away his journal. Nothing he hasn't seen before, evidently. He picks up his case and moves to leave the alley before seeing Max and stopping. He slowly looks the machine up and down, putting his hand in his pocket, but he doesn't say anything.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Of course. Anyone you will get.*
Sparrow is sitting in the remains of the ruins, happily sitting there looking to the stars above them as the night sky begins to set in. He is leaning against one of the remaining stone walls, sitting on the ground there.
Arthur (The Ghost Child sin of sloth) is sleeping in the forest. His older brother Alexander (His guardian Wendigo) is watching over them, sitting next to the child on the pillow. It’s been days, and neither of them have moved.
Max tilts his head before removing the mask that covers his nose and mouth. Underneath his entire power jaw is made of metal, sharp metal teeth pierce his upper lip due to their razor-like ends.
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 golem-like creature turns his head and nods, his expression difficult to read as he gently shakes Tim's hand. He's quiet, but after a bit he speaks in a soft, mild-mannered voice. "Hello. You have beautiful eyes."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Stroth is still building bombs, happily grinning as she works.
Masuki watches before walking over slowly.
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 smiles a little bit wider, holding his book tightly to his chest “Oh. Thank you. You look really cool.” He says, speaking just as softly, curious about what his own eyes look like now that they have been mentioned “Nice to meet you. I’m Tim.”
The towering being tilts his own head, moving his hand toward the teeth, before flinching back, as if mere proximity cut his clay fingers. He whispers in a voice so gentle it could lull a raging demon to slumber. "Does it hurt?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He gets up and walks over to them, looking over their shoulder “Yer doin’ great love. I love ya, I wish I could help.”
Arthur stirs slightly as if they are sensing Masuki’s presence. Alexander turns their head, which is crushed into the skull of a deer, constantly dripping blood slowly. It silently nods to them.
"The pain has been with me for so long that I have learned to ignore it." He said, looking around quickly and putting his mask back up "don't want to scare the families.."
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
"Thank you, trying my best." She chuckles and hands him one "I changed the design. Should act like a grenade. Just pull the pin then chuck it."
Masuki bows a bit "Hello..."
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