Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
Loriche has reached the edge of the woods, still holding several signs under her arm, and watches this spectacle with awe.
Riotan is severely tripping in an alleyway, thrashing about with little external awareness at the moment, as he’s been doing for seven hours or so by now.
They work efficiently, making a clicking noise amongst each other.
Stroth raises a brow, walking over, her cane tapping against the sidewalk. They crouch down, picking them up and grinning.
Loriche kinda shrinks back, realizing that as an undead, she might be a target.
“Nnnnngggghhhhh…” Riotan pushes against her face, and then his face splits into an inexplicable grin, his tongue flicking out rapidly. “That smell… you must really be a terrible person, mustn’t you?”
They don't seem to notice her, and if they do, they do not seem to care. One even waves to her before turning back to the rest.
Stroth grins and nods "Unfortunately that is card I have been dealt by fate. Don't worry, I won't do anything nefarious to you."
*back from dinner*
Intrigue overwhelming caution, Loriche approaches the soul ranchers. “Hey, what are you guys up to?”
“Oh, if I thought you were a danger to me or my body, you probably wouldn’t have any of your skin right now. Or your brain. Or the rest of you. Or your soul. I’m not helpless, even if I am completely out of it right now.”
The one with the burlap mask walks over, coiling up his whip "We are returning the souls back to their rightful places." He says.
She chuckles and sets him down on a bench "Oh hush up, don't threaten me with a good time unless you can provide it." She grins.
“And where’s that?”
He laughs weakly. “You’re weird. I like that.”
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No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
Loriche has reached the edge of the woods, still holding several signs under her arm, and watches this spectacle with awe.
Riotan is severely tripping in an alleyway, thrashing about with little external awareness at the moment, as he’s been doing for seven hours or so by now.
They work efficiently, making a clicking noise amongst each other.
Stroth raises a brow, walking over, her cane tapping against the sidewalk. They crouch down, picking them up and grinning.
Loriche kinda shrinks back, realizing that as an undead, she might be a target.
“Nnnnngggghhhhh…” Riotan pushes against her face, and then his face splits into an inexplicable grin, his tongue flicking out rapidly. “That smell… you must really be a terrible person, mustn’t you?”
They don't seem to notice her, and if they do, they do not seem to care. One even waves to her before turning back to the rest.
Stroth grins and nods "Unfortunately that is card I have been dealt by fate. Don't worry, I won't do anything nefarious to you."
*back from dinner*
Intrigue overwhelming caution, Loriche approaches the soul ranchers. “Hey, what are you guys up to?”
“Oh, if I thought you were a danger to me or my body, you probably wouldn’t have any of your skin right now. Or your brain. Or the rest of you. Or your soul. I’m not helpless, even if I am completely out of it right now.”
The one with the burlap mask walks over, coiling up his whip "We are returning the souls back to their rightful places." He says.
She chuckles and sets him down on a bench "Oh hush up, don't threaten me with a good time unless you can provide it." She grins.
“And where’s that?”
He laughs weakly. “You’re weird. I like that.”
"Heaven, hell, whichever the gods or devils feel is best.' they said, nodding.
She laughs as well "Perhaps don't do drugs on a street where the weirdos can find you hm?"
He nods. "As a demon, souls are my specialty. I'd like to know the nature of your job, and how it relates to mine. If you're allowed to tell me, that is."
They look nervous for a moment, fiddling with their weapons but not in a way that they want to attack him. The one in the owl mask shakes it's head to the big guy. The big guy looks at them and then turns to Dys "I am sorry.. I cannot divulge that information..."
"It's alright. Could I talk with your superiors then?" He doesn't seem at all bothered. Completely in control of the situation, at least in his own eyes.
She rolls her eyes "Perhaps. If so, they need to take a chill pill."
He starts making his way back towards the tavern "seems like most of the time they stay in the forest so it could just be guarding something"
"You know them?" Her teeth get sharp somehow, her eye glowing.
"I meant the drones. I don't know who controls them"
She narrows her eyes, the pupils becoming slits.
"what?"
"They have stayed out of my way so i don't know much about them"
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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
A young girl with coppery skin and a thick, fluffy mane of auburn hair poorly half-tucked into a wool cap is playing outside. She wears large puffy gloves and shoes.
Saphuno, who had been sitting on a bench outside, realizes the girl is playing nearby, so she quickly extinguishes her cigarette, flushing.
the girl doesn't seem to be affected by the smoke, continuing to slay fake bad guys with a stick
"You enjoying yourself?" She says with a calming tone and a warm smile on her face. She rests her paws in her lap.
*what does the look like?* "Yes, ma'am!" she politely replies
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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)
Thirteen is in an armchair, sipping tea and petting his cat.
Mauric is monologuing to himself on the roof, seemingly psyching himself up to something.
Klei is pretty infected by now.
Jax, smelling tea, approaches the arm chair. He is not wearing his armor, just in street clothes. "Oooh what's that? Maybe oolong?"
“Kalinatos, actually. Up until recently, it was only found on Krynn, but mercanes have distributed them around the Prime Material. Thankfully too, since this is my favorite blend.” He responds. His undead tortoiseshell cat, Caramel, peers up at Jax with her glowing orange eyes.
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No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He nods. "As a demon, souls are my specialty. I'd like to know the nature of your job, and how it relates to mine. If you're allowed to tell me, that is."
They look nervous for a moment, fiddling with their weapons but not in a way that they want to attack him. The one in the owl mask shakes it's head to the big guy. The big guy looks at them and then turns to Dys "I am sorry.. I cannot divulge that information..."
"It's alright. Could I talk with your superiors then?" He doesn't seem at all bothered. Completely in control of the situation, at least in his own eyes.
They look more nervous and shake their heads "We are sorry sir.. we cannot divulge that information either.." It says, wringing it's hands "I am very very sorry."
*you know, blood from my homebrew monster the gryphling can cure anything. Probably even a blight. Now if there was only a gryphling around...*
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)
“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She rolls her eyes "Perhaps. If so, they need to take a chill pill."
He starts making his way back towards the tavern "seems like most of the time they stay in the forest so it could just be guarding something"
"You know them?" Her teeth get sharp somehow, her eye glowing.
"I meant the drones. I don't know who controls them"
She narrows her eyes, the pupils becoming slits.
"what?"
"They have stayed out of my way so i don't know much about them"
She grumbles and rubs her temples "Unfair."
He heads inside and pulls some metal out of his bag "guess i'm not a person of interest to them"
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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
Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
*oooooooooooo, nice!*
Tycho hums, on a page about 'mirror spirits' which are a subtype of demons
He raises a brow "What are those?"
"Mirror spirits." He looks over, "Ok, simple explanation rather than the long one. You know changelings? They're a subtype of fey."
"Ohhhhh." He said, blinking.
"And mirror spirits are to demons what changeligns are to fey."
"That's... Confusing.." he mutters and lights a cigarette.
Tycho nods, taking the cigarette away after a moment,
“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
They wave their hands, as if signalling her to stop "No, the spirits are lost. We send them back to the afterlife with the brand." They said, nervously wringing their hands.
She blinks and cackles "That's an idea of I ever heard of one." She sits down besides him and leans her head back.
Out in the distance, the field next the village is sparkling. Some with true sight can see this sparkling aura is not one of magic but one of spiritual nature. Many spirits congregating here, lost and alone. As if on que, four leather clad figures ride down the hill on the adjacent side. They ride upon the backs of mechanical horses made of steel that are powered by some sort of black smoke. They wear large, wide brimmed cowboys hats fitted with bone pieces. They each wear a mask that covers their face. An owl carved crudely from bone, a snarling demon looking one with goggles over the eyes, one faceless black mask with no eyeholes made of stone, the biggest of the bunch wears a burlap sack that has tiny burnt out eyeholes and smile drawn on with charcoal. The throw lassos made of metal at the spirit's, somehow able to grip the souls and bring them down. They jump off their horses and produce a branding iron that they lay on the skins of the spirits. The spirits howl and thrash then suddenly disappear into the enteral mists.
-other characters-
Kazekiri is sharpening her nails while sitting on top of the water over by the lake.
Scott is with Tycho, watching him read.
Stroth is being an arse.
*oooooooooooo, nice!*
Tycho hums, on a page about 'mirror spirits' which are a subtype of demons
He raises a brow "What are those?"
"Mirror spirits." He looks over, "Ok, simple explanation rather than the long one. You know changelings? They're a subtype of fey."
"Ohhhhh." He said, blinking.
"And mirror spirits are to demons what changeligns are to fey."
"That's... Confusing.." he mutters and lights a cigarette.
Tycho nods, taking the cigarette away after a moment,
He hissed "Hey!"
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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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“And where’s that?”
He laughs weakly. “You’re weird. I like that.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Heaven, hell, whichever the gods or devils feel is best.' they said, nodding.
She laughs as well "Perhaps don't do drugs on a street where the weirdos can find you hm?"
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's alright. Could I talk with your superiors then?" He doesn't seem at all bothered. Completely in control of the situation, at least in his own eyes.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"They have stayed out of my way so i don't know much about them"
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
*what does the look like?*
"Yes, ma'am!" she politely replies
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)
“Kalinatos, actually. Up until recently, it was only found on Krynn, but mercanes have distributed them around the Prime Material. Thankfully too, since this is my favorite blend.” He responds. His undead tortoiseshell cat, Caramel, peers up at Jax with her glowing orange eyes.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*I keep thinking that Stroth looks like Grace Huffman by Blackkatdraws. https://64.media.tumblr.com/43bded1ae70d47ce6158ab0cf1f9ccc9/3c2a752e8b43c5d0-30/s1280x1920/2ad9c53c2699f3708d848217b2df49e1b2a03458.pnj*
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
They look more nervous and shake their heads "We are sorry sir.. we cannot divulge that information either.." It says, wringing it's hands "I am very very sorry."
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
She grumbles and rubs her temples "Unfair."
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
*you know, blood from my homebrew monster the gryphling can cure anything. Probably even a blight. Now if there was only a gryphling around...*
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)
*cut*
“And you’re the ones with that job? Cool. I can do that without a fancy brand though.” She takes out her pick. “It’s called killing.”
“Drugs? Nah. I spent thousands on a bag of the illegitimate child of mace, cocaine, and the sins of mankind. Then I tried to throw it at the guy who sold it to me, but it went back on me. Shoulda gone with my original strategy and baked it into bread that I’d hand out to homeless people.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*be back in a few minutes, gotta take a shower*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He heads inside and pulls some metal out of his bag "guess i'm not a person of interest to them"
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
Tycho nods, taking the cigarette away after a moment,
They wave their hands, as if signalling her to stop "No, the spirits are lost. We send them back to the afterlife with the brand." They said, nervously wringing their hands.
She blinks and cackles "That's an idea of I ever heard of one." She sits down besides him and leans her head back.
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
"Then why not sleep in the tavern instead," she asks curiously
"Not yet." She 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
He hissed "Hey!"
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