"My job is to make sure such things do not happen, in addition to dealing with the menu and the paperwork." The Chef sits in a chair and orders a drink for Don, but not for himself. "And while your work is appreciated, I'd like to keep it far away from me. I seek peace in my life, and I'm willing to silence others to reach it. I doubt I have the strength to silence you should you choose to cause me trouble."
“Luckily enough I don’t have a problem with you, and thank you for getting my favorite, if you ever need me for anything just ask, you know how good I am at my job.” Once the drink arrives he chugs it down, “I don’t want to be enemies with you by any stretch of my broad imagination. Especially with your particular skills I’ve heard so much about.”
"That is a relief. I assume you know my name already, so you are free to use it now. I'm glad that we can be tolerant of each other. And trust that you have no reason to fear me. I use violence only as a quick and easy solution when I do not have the restraint to use words. Speaking of which, I apologize for my foul language earlier. I will do it again if a similar situation arises, but now that we are acquainted, I feel like I can afford to be reasonably polite with you."
(I have spent a good half a day trying to solve technical issues)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
*Hmmm... would you like to play with Chef Barbeau or The Insane (But Friendly) Religious Zealot Prisoner?*
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
*Hmmm... would you like to play with Chef Barbeau or The Insane (But Friendly) Religious Zealot Prisoner?*
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
*Hmmm... would you like to play with Chef Barbeau or The Insane (But Friendly) Religious Zealot Prisoner?*
*Either is fine my friend :)*
*Psycho it is!*
A huge, ferret-humanoid creature sits by the side of the path she walks. On his head is a pumpkin-like helm, the only openings being the one for the neck and a torn-open crack for the mouth, in which gleaming white teeth sit shrouded in darkness. The rest of the being's clothes are either heavy leather protective gear or what is clearly a well-worn prison outfit. Before it is an absurdly long sword, one that might be a sort of great estoc (?) for the giant, held on an apparatus of sticks as if to use it as a roasting spit. There is no fire below it, but the meat skewered on the sword is cooking anyway.
The figure is slumped over, seemingly unaware of her. Its deep breathing may denote unconciousness.
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
*Hmmm... would you like to play with Chef Barbeau or The Insane (But Friendly) Religious Zealot Prisoner?*
*Either is fine my friend :)*
*Psycho it is!*
A huge, ferret-humanoid creature sits by the side of the path she walks. On his head is a pumpkin-like helm, the only openings being the one for the neck and a torn-open crack for the mouth, in which gleaming white teeth sit shrouded in darkness. The rest of the being's clothes are either heavy leather protective gear or what is clearly a well-worn prison outfit. Before it is an absurdly long sword, one that might be a sort of great estoc (?) for the giant, held on an apparatus of sticks as if to use it as a roasting spit. There is no fire below it, but the meat skewered on the sword is cooking anyway.
The figure is slumped over, seemingly unaware of her. Its deep breathing may denote unconciousness.
She tilts her head, walking over on her little stilt-like stick legs. She crouches down, tilting her head from side to side, watching but not doing a thing. She then gains an idea.
She sets down her basket, opening up a flap, and digging around. She pulls out a little cucumber and turkey sandwich, all nicely wrapped in parchment paper. She sets it besides them on the ground alongside a glass bottle with an amber colored liquid in it that smell faintly of peaches.
She then stands up, clasping her twig hands together, and making her way to the tavern.
A huge, ferret-humanoid creature sits by the side of the path she walks. On his head is a pumpkin-like helm, the only openings being the one for the neck and a torn-open crack for the mouth, in which gleaming white teeth sit shrouded in darkness. The rest of the being's clothes are either heavy leather protective gear or what is clearly a well-worn prison outfit. Before it is an absurdly long sword, one that might be a sort of great estoc (?) for the giant, held on an apparatus of sticks as if to use it as a roasting spit. There is no fire below it, but the meat skewered on the sword is cooking anyway.
The figure is slumped over, seemingly unaware of her. Its deep breathing may denote unconciousness.
She tilts her head, walking over on her little stilt-like stick legs. She crouches down, tilting her head from side to side, watching but not doing a thing. She then gains an idea.
She sets down her basket, opening up a flap, and digging around. She pulls out a little cucumber and turkey sandwich, all nicely wrapped in parchment paper. She sets it besides them on the ground alongside a glass bottle with an amber colored liquid in it that smell faintly of peaches.
She then stands up, clasping her twig hands together, and making her way to the tavern.
The creature doesn't turn its head, but its teeth part as it begins to inhale deeply as if tasting the air. It begins to shift, its leather-covered fingertips dragging across the ground. "What is this?" comes its deep, gravely voice, echoing loudly in the oversized helm. It brings the sandwich up to the opening in the helmet, tasting its scent. "Dear me... I haven't smelled good sourdough in decades. The King has provided for me again, through the hands of strangers." He smells it again. "But of what sort? I smell... wood. Silver. A blight? No, no earthiness. Wait..."
He sniffs the air again, slowly turning his head toward the doll. "I see thee. A... radiance. Are you an angel? Sent by the Kind One?"
A huge, ferret-humanoid creature sits by the side of the path she walks. On his head is a pumpkin-like helm, the only openings being the one for the neck and a torn-open crack for the mouth, in which gleaming white teeth sit shrouded in darkness. The rest of the being's clothes are either heavy leather protective gear or what is clearly a well-worn prison outfit. Before it is an absurdly long sword, one that might be a sort of great estoc (?) for the giant, held on an apparatus of sticks as if to use it as a roasting spit. There is no fire below it, but the meat skewered on the sword is cooking anyway.
The figure is slumped over, seemingly unaware of her. Its deep breathing may denote unconciousness.
She tilts her head, walking over on her little stilt-like stick legs. She crouches down, tilting her head from side to side, watching but not doing a thing. She then gains an idea.
She sets down her basket, opening up a flap, and digging around. She pulls out a little cucumber and turkey sandwich, all nicely wrapped in parchment paper. She sets it besides them on the ground alongside a glass bottle with an amber colored liquid in it that smell faintly of peaches.
She then stands up, clasping her twig hands together, and making her way to the tavern.
The creature doesn't turn its head, but its teeth part as it begins to inhale deeply as if tasting the air. It begins to shift, its leather-covered fingertips dragging across the ground. "What is this?" comes its deep, gravely voice, echoing loudly in the oversized helm. It brings the sandwich up to the opening in the helmet, tasting its scent. "Dear me... I haven't smelled good sourdough in decades. The King has provided for me again, through the hands of strangers." He smells it again. "But of what sort? I smell... wood. Silver. A blight? No, no earthiness. Wait..."
He sniffs the air again, slowly turning his head toward the doll. "I see thee. A... radiance. Are you an angel? Sent by the Kind One?"
She turns, tilting her head. "Oh dear no honey, I ain't one of the winged creatures!" She laughed lightly, the sound of rustling twigs can be heard "No no, I ain't from heaven or the above, but I hear its right lovely up there."
She points to the sandwich "and you got a good nose on you honey, I try and make my bread fresh rather than buy it two days old from a store!" She then points to the bottle "That's peach tea, ain't nothing special but I think it tastes right good."
(I have spent a good half a day trying to solve technical issues)
*Evening Luna :)*
(how are you doing?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
(I have spent a good half a day trying to solve technical issues)
*Oh no!*
(the game worked well the first time at least)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
(I have spent a good half a day trying to solve technical issues)
*Evening Luna :)*
(how are you doing?)
*eh, got done a long shift and my feet hurt.*
(sorry to hear that)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
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*Want to retcon that because I have important Damian lore.*
*yeah. or maybe he just left*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"That is a relief. I assume you know my name already, so you are free to use it now. I'm glad that we can be tolerant of each other. And trust that you have no reason to fear me. I use violence only as a quick and easy solution when I do not have the restraint to use words. Speaking of which, I apologize for my foul language earlier. I will do it again if a similar situation arises, but now that we are acquainted, I feel like I can afford to be reasonably polite with you."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*[Starts five different fires]*
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
*Soft boy!!!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
(I have spent a good half a day trying to solve technical issues)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
*Oh no!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Anywhoozle, a character because I haven't been on in thousands of years.*
[In the depths of the underworld, within the City of Iron, dwells a mysterious woman whose presence exudes a captivating aura reminiscent of celestial beings. Her enigmatic nature veils her actions, and those closest to her guard her secrets with unwavering loyalty. Neither Tiefling nor devil, she exists as a paradoxical being, created from the lifeless twigs of a magnolia tree and the essence of individuals who dared to defy their predestined fates. Taking the form of a straw doll intricately bound with a delicate blend of white and silver string, her existence surpasses mere appearance.]
Walking up the tavern, with a basket around her arm, is a rather strange creature. A scarecrow of sorts made from twigs with a delicate painted porcelain mask that resembles a lovely women. She wears a sundress made of blue and white material and a large sunhat that is decorated with white roses and a light blue bow. She picks up random flowers along her walk, placing them in the basket.
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
*My favorite demonic presence!! [Huggles]*
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
*Evening Luna :)*
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
*Hmmm... would you like to play with Chef Barbeau or The Insane (But Friendly) Religious Zealot Prisoner?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Either is fine my friend :)*
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
*Psycho it is!*
A huge, ferret-humanoid creature sits by the side of the path she walks. On his head is a pumpkin-like helm, the only openings being the one for the neck and a torn-open crack for the mouth, in which gleaming white teeth sit shrouded in darkness. The rest of the being's clothes are either heavy leather protective gear or what is clearly a well-worn prison outfit. Before it is an absurdly long sword, one that might be a sort of great estoc (?) for the giant, held on an apparatus of sticks as if to use it as a roasting spit. There is no fire below it, but the meat skewered on the sword is cooking anyway.
The figure is slumped over, seemingly unaware of her. Its deep breathing may denote unconciousness.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She tilts her head, walking over on her little stilt-like stick legs. She crouches down, tilting her head from side to side, watching but not doing a thing. She then gains an idea.
She sets down her basket, opening up a flap, and digging around. She pulls out a little cucumber and turkey sandwich, all nicely wrapped in parchment paper. She sets it besides them on the ground alongside a glass bottle with an amber colored liquid in it that smell faintly of peaches.
She then stands up, clasping her twig hands together, and making her way to the tavern.
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 creature doesn't turn its head, but its teeth part as it begins to inhale deeply as if tasting the air. It begins to shift, its leather-covered fingertips dragging across the ground. "What is this?" comes its deep, gravely voice, echoing loudly in the oversized helm. It brings the sandwich up to the opening in the helmet, tasting its scent. "Dear me... I haven't smelled good sourdough in decades. The King has provided for me again, through the hands of strangers." He smells it again. "But of what sort? I smell... wood. Silver. A blight? No, no earthiness. Wait..."
He sniffs the air again, slowly turning his head toward the doll. "I see thee. A... radiance. Are you an angel? Sent by the Kind One?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She turns, tilting her head. "Oh dear no honey, I ain't one of the winged creatures!" She laughed lightly, the sound of rustling twigs can be heard "No no, I ain't from heaven or the above, but I hear its right lovely up there."
She points to the sandwich "and you got a good nose on you honey, I try and make my bread fresh rather than buy it two days old from a store!" She then points to the bottle "That's peach tea, ain't nothing special but I think it tastes right good."
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
(how are you doing?)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
(the game worked well the first time at least)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
*eh, got done a long shift and my feet hurt.*
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 to hear that)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover