*I just found out that grell aren't actually brains with beaks and tentacles...*
"Ehhh..." He holds his hand flat and tilts it side to side.
He smiles back as he takes them. "Thank you. I will." He pours the milk into a tub and puts some nutmeg in there before placing the brains to brine in the milk. "How have you been, Mr. Alterious-Padfoot?"
“If you didn’t like it you can say so, you are much greater than any mortal life or place.”
He goes back to what he was doing before, thinking “Life has been good, my self hatred has depleted, and my daughter is getting married, my son is growing up healthy, all is good.”
"I don't like it when you say it like that." He grumbles. "It was fine."
Jacob nods, a bit of sadness in his eyes. "Sounds like it."
“I am simply being honest, you’ve probably seen any place that could be known by a mortal mind and not forgetten, I’m just telling the truth.”
“Why do you look so sad?” He says, pouring himself a glass of water.
Atticus is sleeping in a hollow tree, much like a fat owl.
Carrion crawls over, carrying what appears to be a bouquet of flowers made from meats and vegetables.
The bouquet slowly levitates out of Carrion's hand. It begins to swirl, cooking in blue flame and forming into a fine dish before returning to Carrion's hand. Atticus hasn't opened his eyes.
"The country that had tried for the longest time to control the city had two issues: first, dentistry licenses did not transfer between districts. Second, the pay was nowhere near enough for a dentist to maintain a practice. So they worked in Kowloon to skirt around those laws. There were a lot of people close by, so they could charge less and still make enough money to survive. However, they were left without jobs when the city was torn down for being a 'safety hazard and eyesore.' My theory is that the totalitarian country that tried to own the city got angry that they had no right to it."
"I see.. quite strange In my opinion. What took Kowloon's place?"
Atticus is sleeping in a hollow tree, much like a fat owl.
Carrion crawls over, carrying what appears to be a bouquet of flowers made from meats and vegetables.
The bouquet slowly levitates out of Carrion's hand. It begins to swirl, cooking in blue flame and forming into a fine dish before returning to Carrion's hand. Atticus hasn't opened his eyes.
The bouquet slowly levitates out of Carrion's hand. It begins to swirl, cooking in blue flame and forming into a fine dish before returning to Carrion's hand. Atticus hasn't opened his eyes.
Carrion sighs "It was meant for you." he huffs.
"Well now you can give it to me. I can't eat raw food, remember?"
"Yeah. A huge amount of people lost their homes. I hope the same thing doesn't happen to Mistshore... again."
"Sounds dreadful." she pours herself something harder than Ale, offering him some.
He accepts, nodding. "The whole Dock Ward caught fire a while back. They managed to save most of it, but Mistshore was beyond recovery. But people live there anyway, in their upturned boats held to each other by crude wooden walkways."
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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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Atticus is sleeping in a hollow tree, much like a fat owl.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
“I am simply being honest, you’ve probably seen any place that could be known by a mortal mind and not forgetten, I’m just telling the truth.”
“Why do you look so sad?” He says, pouring himself a glass of water.
She raises an eyebrow and pours two glasses off the stuff, putting one in front of them, “Let’s see you try it, big boy.”
(Good end I would say, your turn to pick.)
She leans against them, sighing “I love ya… so much.” She wraps her arms around their neck.
Carrion crawls over, carrying what appears to be a bouquet of flowers made from meats and vegetables.
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
"Fair enough." He mumbles, laying back down.
"Nothing to worry about. It's just jealousy. I never had a family."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He’s able to manage that, and Natasha tries and succeeds in doing the same, though her eyes are very tired after.
She smiles and tilts her head “I like the sound o’ that.” She begins passionately kissing them again, all she can think about.
Rag has just finished mediating, being immortal is new to him, so he’s thinking about what he’ll do.”
“I hope things go well for you, I’ll probably have to return home, manage the whole, being next in line for the throne thing.”
“Hmm, I would be the same if I were in a similar situation, for the longest time it was just me and my brother, I understand it a little bit.”
The bouquet slowly levitates out of Carrion's hand. It begins to swirl, cooking in blue flame and forming into a fine dish before returning to Carrion's hand. Atticus hasn't opened his eyes.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"No." He says simply. "Let them squirm. They'll either build a better system or prove they don't deserve one."
He nods. "I had some otyughs that took me in as a child, but they didn't really understand me."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"A park. It looks kinda nice, I guess."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Carrion sighs "It was meant for you." he huffs.
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
"Yeah. A huge amount of people lost their homes. I hope the same thing doesn't happen to Mistshore... again."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"Well now you can give it to me. I can't eat raw food, remember?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He accepts, nodding. "The whole Dock Ward caught fire a while back. They managed to save most of it, but Mistshore was beyond recovery. But people live there anyway, in their upturned boats held to each other by crude wooden walkways."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels