She kisses them on the forehead before turning away, opening her eyes as she walks to the door, "This is just another steppin' stone, Omori. You'll be the best star druid ta ever exist." She walks out, closing the door behind her.
"I'll... I'll try my best." She responds quietly before they close the door. She goes back over to her little desk in the other corner of the room, leafing through papers that all have various drawings- symbols she doesn't understand and yet recalls perfectly, the horrific and beautiful things she sees when she closes her eyes, and other observations she's made since the Observatory visit. She tries not to worry, but all this is still making her immensely concerned.
Merabelle decides to go for a run, all the way to the Observatory, not stopping at any point. It would take her a few hours, considering she isn't half as fast as Top, but she doesn't take any breaks, and knows the best paths, or the ones from her time, making sure the kids will be okay without her for as long as she will be gone.
She arrives at the Observatory around midday, the building being almost just like she remembered it. The paint has begun to flake away in spots, and the door's hinges are wracked with rust, but the rest of the structure seems at least somewhat maintained. None of the lights are on, and the door inside is wide open.
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)
"Could you describe your symptoms to me? I might be able to identify it." She can hear him pulling out a heavy tome and flipping through sturdy pages.
"I've been seeing things when I close my eyes... I haven't slept in days because of that. I grew another eye, and I think there's more on the way. I'm remembering things I've never seen before, and having some trouble remembering other things... I don't think there's anything else right now." She explains. Being an archmage, Atticus can easily recognize that the symptoms coincide with the Curse of the Witness- an affliction of the body and mind spurred on from learning knowledge that is magically cursed or beyond the human scope of cognition. She's around halfway through Stage Two, by the sound of it- should it get to Stage Four, it'll be far harder to fix.
She can hear the clinking of metal utensils for a couple seconds. "A simple disease. I can cure it in a little under a minute if you open the door. I'll give you a little treat when I'm done, if you like."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She arrives at the Observatory around midday, the building being almost just like she remembered it. The paint has begun to flake away in spots, and the door's hinges are wracked with rust, but the rest of the structure seems at least somewhat maintained. None of the lights are on, and the door inside is wide open.
She walks inside, running her hands along the walls and reminiscing for a moment before going to look for the Observatory keeper, her feet slapping against the ground as she takes a deep breath, breathing in everything.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
"Could you describe your symptoms to me? I might be able to identify it." She can hear him pulling out a heavy tome and flipping through sturdy pages.
"I've been seeing things when I close my eyes... I haven't slept in days because of that. I grew another eye, and I think there's more on the way. I'm remembering things I've never seen before, and having some trouble remembering other things... I don't think there's anything else right now." She explains. Being an archmage, Atticus can easily recognize that the symptoms coincide with the Curse of the Witness- an affliction of the body and mind spurred on from learning knowledge that is magically cursed or beyond the human scope of cognition. She's around halfway through Stage Two, by the sound of it- should it get to Stage Four, it'll be far harder to fix.
She can hear the clinking of metal utensils for a couple seconds. "A simple disease. I can cure it in a little under a minute if you open the door. I'll give you a little treat when I'm done, if you like."
"...Okay. Just... don't get too close. I don't want it to spread to you." She unlocks the door, and can be heard quickly moving to the other side of the room immediately after.
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)
"I wiped out an entire thieves guild and ate their remains." He walks two fingers up Uzui's arm. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
He watches the fingers, tapping his own against his bicep "Oh really? Such a bad one, aren't you?" He laughs a bit, "You don't have to force something that isn't there for my sake."
"C'mon, I'm made of cake. You could kill me in a moment, right?" He grins. "But if a rivalry is too much for you, we could just hang"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Rolling into town in a gold and black carriage is a figure hidden by black curtains. Two knights in gold and black armor are riding brown horses next to the cart, escorting it. The carriage is led by two skeleton horses with blue glowing eyes. The townsfolks eyes are caught by the beauty of the carriage. It rolls slowly through town, the knights looking around for any threats. Hanging on the back of the wagon is a black banner with a mountain with a sun behind it, and inside the mountain is a grey armored fist.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"I wiped out an entire thieves guild and ate their remains." He walks two fingers up Uzui's arm. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
He watches the fingers, tapping his own against his bicep "Oh really? Such a bad one, aren't you?" He laughs a bit, "You don't have to force something that isn't there for my sake."
"C'mon, I'm made of cake. You could kill me in a moment, right?" He grins. "But if a rivalry is too much for you, we could just hang"
"A rivalry is a little difficult when you are likely a being much more powerful than you let on. Judging appearances is a fool's way to die." He smiles back at them, "I could use a rival though, if you're up for it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
She arrives at the Observatory around midday, the building being almost just like she remembered it. The paint has begun to flake away in spots, and the door's hinges are wracked with rust, but the rest of the structure seems at least somewhat maintained. None of the lights are on, and the door inside is wide open.
She walks inside, running her hands along the walls and reminiscing for a moment before going to look for the Observatory keeper, her feet slapping against the ground as she takes a deep breath, breathing in everything.
She finds the keeper rather quickly, hunched over a desk and writing down more symbols in a notebook- but they certainly don't look like they used to. They wear a long dusty cloak made of pieced-together rags that obscures the majority of their form, and as they turn to face her, she can see not one, not two, but at least five heads looking back at her at odd angles. None of the heads have faces, just inky voids that glitter with lights from within- again, some part of her knows it's a bad idea to look at them, though the temptation is certainly there.
"Merabelle..." Rennick- or at least, what's left of Rennick- rasps in a hoarse voice. "It's been so long... what brings you back... after all these years?"
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)
She can hear the clinking of metal utensils for a couple seconds. "A simple disease. I can cure it in a little under a minute if you open the door. I'll give you a little treat when I'm done, if you like."
"...Okay. Just... don't get too close. I don't want it to spread to you." She unlocks the door, and can be heard quickly moving to the other side of the room immediately after.
"Don't worry about it. It's not contagious." He's holding a spoon in his left hand, and there is a gaping hole where his left eye should be. "But I'm hoping to catch it anyway."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She arrives at the Observatory around midday, the building being almost just like she remembered it. The paint has begun to flake away in spots, and the door's hinges are wracked with rust, but the rest of the structure seems at least somewhat maintained. None of the lights are on, and the door inside is wide open.
She walks inside, running her hands along the walls and reminiscing for a moment before going to look for the Observatory keeper, her feet slapping against the ground as she takes a deep breath, breathing in everything.
She finds the keeper rather quickly, hunched over a desk and writing down more symbols in a notebook- but they certainly don't look like they used to. They wear a long dusty cloak made of pieced-together rags that obscures the majority of their form, and as they turn to face her, she can see not one, not two, but at least five heads looking back at her at odd angles. None of the heads have faces, just inky voids that glitter with lights from within- again, some part of her knows it's a bad idea to look at them, though the temptation is certainly there.
"Merabelle..." Rennick- or at least, what's left of Rennick- rasps in a hoarse voice. "It's been so long... what brings you back... after all these years?"
She tilts her head, putting her hands on her hips, "Rennick, it's been far too long since we've talked, an' we need ta talk more." She makes her way over to the desk, making sure to keep the lights of the room off, leaning against whatever she can nearby and not looking directly at them. "Unfortunately I'm here cause ya put a star disease on my daughter, an' now I'm lookin' fer a cure. Looks like ya haven't gotten any less handsome since I last saw ya." She says with a cackle.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
She can hear the clinking of metal utensils for a couple seconds. "A simple disease. I can cure it in a little under a minute if you open the door. I'll give you a little treat when I'm done, if you like."
"...Okay. Just... don't get too close. I don't want it to spread to you." She unlocks the door, and can be heard quickly moving to the other side of the room immediately after.
"Don't worry about it. It's not contagious." He's holding a spoon in his left hand, and there is a gaping hole where his left eye should be. "But I'm hoping to catch it anyway."
"It... it isn't? That's a relief." She takes off the large sunhat obscuring her face, showing that, sure enough, she's growing more eyes than she should be. "Why would you want to catch it, though? Isn't it a disease, like you said?"
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)
"C'mon, I'm made of cake. You could kill me in a moment, right?" He grins. "But if a rivalry is too much for you, we could just hang"
"A rivalry is a little difficult when you are likely a being much more powerful than you let on. Judging appearances is a fool's way to die." He smiles back at them, "I could use a rival though, if you're up for it."
"Sure! What should we be rivals in?" He lays on his back. "Killing sounds a bit cliche, don't you think? Besides, I'd win. More available targets."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"C'mon, I'm made of cake. You could kill me in a moment, right?" He grins. "But if a rivalry is too much for you, we could just hang"
"A rivalry is a little difficult when you are likely a being much more powerful than you let on. Judging appearances is a fool's way to die." He smiles back at them, "I could use a rival though, if you're up for it."
"Sure! What should we be rivals in?" He lays on his back. "Killing sounds a bit cliche, don't you think? Besides, I'd win. More available targets."
"I'm not much of anything, I'm good enough at fighting but I wouldn't want to be cliche, though I'm sure you wouldn't win. Maybe music? I'm no master, but I'd try."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
Rolling into town in a gold and black carriage is a figure hidden by black curtains. Two knights in gold and black armor are riding brown horses next to the cart, escorting it. The carriage is led by two skeleton horses with blue glowing eyes. The townsfolks eyes are caught by the beauty of the carriage. It rolls slowly through town, the knights looking around for any threats. Hanging on the back of the wagon is a black banner with a mountain with a sun behind it, and inside the mountain is a grey armored fist.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She walks inside, running her hands along the walls and reminiscing for a moment before going to look for the Observatory keeper, her feet slapping against the ground as she takes a deep breath, breathing in everything.
She finds the keeper rather quickly, hunched over a desk and writing down more symbols in a notebook- but they certainly don't look like they used to. They wear a long dusty cloak made of pieced-together rags that obscures the majority of their form, and as they turn to face her, she can see not one, not two, but at least five heads looking back at her at odd angles. None of the heads have faces, just inky voids that glitter with lights from within- again, some part of her knows it's a bad idea to look at them, though the temptation is certainly there.
"Merabelle..." Rennick- or at least, what's left of Rennick- rasps in a hoarse voice. "It's been so long... what brings you back... after all these years?"
She tilts her head, putting her hands on her hips, "Rennick, it's been far too long since we've talked, an' we need ta talk more." She makes her way over to the desk, making sure to keep the lights of the room off, leaning against whatever she can nearby and not looking directly at them. "Unfortunately I'm here cause ya put a star disease on my daughter, an' now I'm lookin' fer a cure. Looks like ya haven't gotten any less handsome since I last saw ya." She says with a cackle.
"...A disease?.. You are mistaken... it is a gift..." He retorts, not understanding why she would (quite reasonably) believe it to be a sickness. "She has seen it... and she will be... a better druid than ever before... She is blessed by 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)
"...A disease?.. You are mistaken... it is a gift..." He retorts, not understanding why she would (quite reasonably) believe it to be a sickness. "She has seen it... and she will be... a better druid than ever before... She is blessed by it..."
"Sweetheart, Omori's afraid o' this, she don't think it's a blessin', so it ain't a blessin' ta her, ta her it's a curse." She says, tapping the desk with a finger, "A better druid doesn't matter if she doesn't want ta become one this way."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
"Don't worry about it. It's not contagious." He's holding a spoon in his left hand, and there is a gaping hole where his left eye should be. "But I'm hoping to catch it anyway."
"It... it isn't? That's a relief." She takes off the large sunhat obscuring her face, showing that, sure enough, she's growing more eyes than she should be. "Why would you want to catch it, though? Isn't it a disease, like you said?"
"It is, but it comes from eldritch knowledge." He walks over and motions for her to sit on the bed as he uses magic to conjure a bowl. "And while that isn't very useful for you as a mortal with a connection to nature, for me? It's incredibly powerful." He puts some ice in the bowl and brandishes his spoon. "Now, this won't hurt as much as you think it will. We're treating the effects first, since the eyes are a protective method for the parasitic knowledge. Once I cut them out, it will have no way to escape my grasp."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Sure! What should we be rivals in?" He lays on his back. "Killing sounds a bit cliche, don't you think? Besides, I'd win. More available targets."
"I'm not much of anything, I'm good enough at fighting but I wouldn't want to be cliche, though I'm sure you wouldn't win. Maybe music? I'm no master, but I'd try."
"Music seems like something we're both good enough at. So, how do we keep the tension going? I mean, I don't want it to feel forced or anything."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Sure! What should we be rivals in?" He lays on his back. "Killing sounds a bit cliche, don't you think? Besides, I'd win. More available targets."
"I'm not much of anything, I'm good enough at fighting but I wouldn't want to be cliche, though I'm sure you wouldn't win. Maybe music? I'm no master, but I'd try."
"Music seems like something we're both good enough at. So, how do we keep the tension going? I mean, I don't want it to feel forced or anything."
"How about we combine the two, music and combat. Like battle of the bands in my country, slinging spells as they attempt to keep a beat going? We meet once a week?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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.'
She arrives at the Observatory around midday, the building being almost just like she remembered it. The paint has begun to flake away in spots, and the door's hinges are wracked with rust, but the rest of the structure seems at least somewhat maintained. None of the lights are on, and the door inside is wide open.
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)
She can hear the clinking of metal utensils for a couple seconds. "A simple disease. I can cure it in a little under a minute if you open the door. I'll give you a little treat when I'm done, if you like."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She walks inside, running her hands along the walls and reminiscing for a moment before going to look for the Observatory keeper, her feet slapping against the ground as she takes a deep breath, breathing in everything.
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.)
"...Okay. Just... don't get too close. I don't want it to spread to you." She unlocks the door, and can be heard quickly moving to the other side of the room immediately after.
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)
*disappointment*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
"C'mon, I'm made of cake. You could kill me in a moment, right?" He grins. "But if a rivalry is too much for you, we could just hang"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*new character*
Rolling into town in a gold and black carriage is a figure hidden by black curtains. Two knights in gold and black armor are riding brown horses next to the cart, escorting it. The carriage is led by two skeleton horses with blue glowing eyes. The townsfolks eyes are caught by the beauty of the carriage. It rolls slowly through town, the knights looking around for any threats. Hanging on the back of the wagon is a black banner with a mountain with a sun behind it, and inside the mountain is a grey armored fist.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"A rivalry is a little difficult when you are likely a being much more powerful than you let on. Judging appearances is a fool's way to die." He smiles back at them, "I could use a rival though, if you're up for it."
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.)
She finds the keeper rather quickly, hunched over a desk and writing down more symbols in a notebook- but they certainly don't look like they used to. They wear a long dusty cloak made of pieced-together rags that obscures the majority of their form, and as they turn to face her, she can see not one, not two, but at least five heads looking back at her at odd angles. None of the heads have faces, just inky voids that glitter with lights from within- again, some part of her knows it's a bad idea to look at them, though the temptation is certainly there.
"Merabelle..." Rennick- or at least, what's left of Rennick- rasps in a hoarse voice. "It's been so long... what brings you back... after all these years?"
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)
"Don't worry about it. It's not contagious." He's holding a spoon in his left hand, and there is a gaping hole where his left eye should be. "But I'm hoping to catch it anyway."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
She tilts her head, putting her hands on her hips, "Rennick, it's been far too long since we've talked, an' we need ta talk more." She makes her way over to the desk, making sure to keep the lights of the room off, leaning against whatever she can nearby and not looking directly at them. "Unfortunately I'm here cause ya put a star disease on my daughter, an' now I'm lookin' fer a cure. Looks like ya haven't gotten any less handsome since I last saw ya." She says with a cackle.
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.)
"It... it isn't? That's a relief." She takes off the large sunhat obscuring her face, showing that, sure enough, she's growing more eyes than she should be. "Why would you want to catch it, though? Isn't it a disease, like you said?"
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)
"Sure! What should we be rivals in?" He lays on his back. "Killing sounds a bit cliche, don't you think? Besides, I'd win. More available targets."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I'm not much of anything, I'm good enough at fighting but I wouldn't want to be cliche, though I'm sure you wouldn't win. Maybe music? I'm no master, but I'd try."
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.)
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"...A disease?.. You are mistaken... it is a gift..." He retorts, not understanding why she would (quite reasonably) believe it to be a sickness. "She has seen it... and she will be... a better druid than ever before... She is blessed by 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)
"Sweetheart, Omori's afraid o' this, she don't think it's a blessin', so it ain't a blessin' ta her, ta her it's a curse." She says, tapping the desk with a finger, "A better druid doesn't matter if she doesn't want ta become one this way."
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.)
"It is, but it comes from eldritch knowledge." He walks over and motions for her to sit on the bed as he uses magic to conjure a bowl. "And while that isn't very useful for you as a mortal with a connection to nature, for me? It's incredibly powerful." He puts some ice in the bowl and brandishes his spoon. "Now, this won't hurt as much as you think it will. We're treating the effects first, since the eyes are a protective method for the parasitic knowledge. Once I cut them out, it will have no way to escape my grasp."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Music seems like something we're both good enough at. So, how do we keep the tension going? I mean, I don't want it to feel forced or anything."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"How about we combine the two, music and combat. Like battle of the bands in my country, slinging spells as they attempt to keep a beat going? We meet once a week?"
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.)