A black Model T car drives up into town. It is near-silent, but the smell of incense and a little bit of smog follows it everywhere. It has the Groupercorp logo on the door, a capital G with gear teeth along the outer edge. After a while of driving slowly and aimlessly through Lord's Point, Aspen, and even the woods somehow, it stops in front of the tavern and the back passenger-side door opens. Out comes a strange automaton, resembling a handsome anthropomorphic horned fox made of steel and gold. He dresses like an office worker, but his shirt is half-tucked and his top buttons are undone. On top of this, he wears a golden neck-tie with three red eyes on it and a white bridal robe, semi-transparent and fluffy around the edges.
The construct bows to the driver, who leaves to park the car somewhere. This is Alwin Grouper, 'son' of the late legendary industrialist Oswald Grouper and future inheritor of the mightiest combined canning and weapons company that currently exists.
A black Model T car drives up into town. It is near-silent, but the smell of incense and a little bit of smog follows it everywhere. It has the Groupercorp logo on the door, a capital G with gear teeth along the outer edge. After a while of driving slowly and aimlessly through Lord's Point, Aspen, and even the woods somehow, it stops in front of the tavern and the back passenger-side door opens. Out comes a strange automaton, resembling a handsome anthropomorphic fox made of steel and gold. He dresses like an office worker, but his shirt is half-tucked and his top buttons are undone. On top of this, he wears a golden neck-tie with three red eyes on it and a white bridal robe, semi-transparent and fluffy around the edges.
The construct bows to the driver, who leaves to park the car somewhere. This is Alwin Grouper, 'son' of the late legendary industrialist Oswald Grouper and future inheritor of the mightiest combined canning and weapons company that currently exists.
You know what they say... If you see a Griffin pup by itself, don't you touch it. It's mother is watching you even if you can't see her.
A pair of eyes seem to watch from the woodlands, a peculiar black dove is nestled in a tree. It has three heads with humanoid eyes that are green irises that hold slitted pupils.
A black Model T car drives up into town. It is near-silent, but the smell of incense and a little bit of smog follows it everywhere. It has the Groupercorp logo on the door, a capital G with gear teeth along the outer edge. After a while of driving slowly and aimlessly through Lord's Point, Aspen, and even the woods somehow, it stops in front of the tavern and the back passenger-side door opens. Out comes a strange automaton, resembling a handsome anthropomorphic fox made of steel and gold. He dresses like an office worker, but his shirt is half-tucked and his top buttons are undone. On top of this, he wears a golden neck-tie with three red eyes on it and a white bridal robe, semi-transparent and fluffy around the edges.
The construct bows to the driver, who leaves to park the car somewhere. This is Alwin Grouper, 'son' of the late legendary industrialist Oswald Grouper and future inheritor of the mightiest combined canning and weapons company that currently exists.
You know what they say... If you see a Griffin pup by itself, don't you touch it. It's mother is watching you even if you can't see her.
A pair of eyes seem to watch from the woodlands, a peculiar black dove is nestled in a tree. It has three heads with humanoid eyes that are green irises that hold slitted pupils.
The horned machine casually turns and holds out a long-clawed hand for it to land on. "Isn't this where you met Father?"
A black Model T car drives up into town. It is near-silent, but the smell of incense and a little bit of smog follows it everywhere. It has the Groupercorp logo on the door, a capital G with gear teeth along the outer edge. After a while of driving slowly and aimlessly through Lord's Point, Aspen, and even the woods somehow, it stops in front of the tavern and the back passenger-side door opens. Out comes a strange automaton, resembling a handsome anthropomorphic fox made of steel and gold. He dresses like an office worker, but his shirt is half-tucked and his top buttons are undone. On top of this, he wears a golden neck-tie with three red eyes on it and a white bridal robe, semi-transparent and fluffy around the edges.
The construct bows to the driver, who leaves to park the car somewhere. This is Alwin Grouper, 'son' of the late legendary industrialist Oswald Grouper and future inheritor of the mightiest combined canning and weapons company that currently exists.
You know what they say... If you see a Griffin pup by itself, don't you touch it. It's mother is watching you even if you can't see her.
A pair of eyes seem to watch from the woodlands, a peculiar black dove is nestled in a tree. It has three heads with humanoid eyes that are green irises that hold slitted pupils.
The horned machine casually turns and holds out a long-clawed hand for it to land on. "Isn't this where you met Father?"
It jumps down into his hand as a feminine voice speaks 'Yes, actually. This area holds a found memory that sits in my heart.'
The horned machine casually turns and holds out a long-clawed hand for it to land on. "Isn't this where you met Father?"
It jumps down into his hand as a feminine voice speaks 'Yes, actually. This area holds a found memory that sits in my heart.'
He smiles. "There are so many amazing little things around here. Have you seen them? Demon lords and gods and strange nightmare beings... I see why he wanted to build a factory here."
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Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
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*Howdy, Baal!*
*Sounds really cool! I look forward to seeing their debut.*
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)
*Sorry I had to go, I hate Spanish so much, but I'm finally back.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*(Taps fingers) That's what you think, mhahahaha.*
*How are you doing close friend?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*You offered, it would be rude of me to say no.*
*I'm doing good enough, wanna rp here or Halfblood?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*I'll be always here probably, we can start something and finish it later.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
“That’s the only one I’m going to look at it so I don’t consider revenge.”
She lets them, hugging her son with a smile.
She leans against their touch, closing their eyes and whispering “I haven’t drunken… that much in a long time.”
A black Model T car drives up into town. It is near-silent, but the smell of incense and a little bit of smog follows it everywhere. It has the Groupercorp logo on the door, a capital G with gear teeth along the outer edge. After a while of driving slowly and aimlessly through Lord's Point, Aspen, and even the woods somehow, it stops in front of the tavern and the back passenger-side door opens. Out comes a strange automaton, resembling a handsome anthropomorphic horned fox made of steel and gold. He dresses like an office worker, but his shirt is half-tucked and his top buttons are undone. On top of this, he wears a golden neck-tie with three red eyes on it and a white bridal robe, semi-transparent and fluffy around the edges.
The construct bows to the driver, who leaves to park the car somewhere. This is Alwin Grouper, 'son' of the late legendary industrialist Oswald Grouper and future inheritor of the mightiest combined canning and weapons company that currently exists.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
You know what they say... If you see a Griffin pup by itself, don't you touch it. It's mother is watching you even if you can't see her.
A pair of eyes seem to watch from the woodlands, a peculiar black dove is nestled in a tree. It has three heads with humanoid eyes that are green irises that hold slitted pupils.
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
*I am hypothetically here, if anyone would think to care. If not, I’m gonna go get some nutrients.*
The horned machine casually turns and holds out a long-clawed hand for it to land on. "Isn't this where you met Father?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I think to care.*
*In fact, I care enough to insist that you must consume nutrients or die.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
It jumps down into his hand as a feminine voice speaks 'Yes, actually. This area holds a found memory that sits in my heart.'
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
*I do believe that you care, but I wouldn’t want to bother you with worrying about me and my lack of nutrition.*
He smiles. "There are so many amazing little things around here. Have you seen them? Demon lords and gods and strange nightmare beings... I see why he wanted to build a factory here."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels