“Friend o’ mine, tried ta prove he was a better shot than me when we met.”
She nods along with their words, deeply interested by this story, and especially by one particular part “The Crown? How could someone such as you get overwhelmed? You are so powerful indeed, and even more than that.”
"And was he?"
"Pfft. Take a look at this." She points at her wide, pale, fishlike eyes. "See these? I can peer over twelve miles without squinting and still read twelve-point font letters. You know what it feels like to see so many things at once in such detail?
He raises an eyebrow “What do ya think? Ya gonna doubt these fingers?” He holds up his hands.
She looks deeply into their eyes, for a moment simply admiring them visibly before nodding “That must be a truly awful curse, though your eyes are beautiful indeed. I am sorry that you must deal with that.”
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
She cuddles up to them, humming the song in between kissing their cheek.
"Okay..." he says, blinking a bit, stretching. "Where are we?... like, town wise."
Once he sees they've stopped chasing the cart, he stops the horses. "You did something... okay, cool.. we're good now." he begins to breathe heavily, adrenaline tapering off.
(Good place to end it?)
He feels the drowsiness in himself fading as she looks out of the wagon's curtained windows "We are only an hour away. Would you like to do anything in that hour?”
"You are safe my dear, consider them handled." He closes his book, sitting next to them as they stop the horses "Deep breaths, I wouldn't let you get hurt under any circumstances."
(yeah, want owt else?)
"Two rounds, right now.... Please?" he says, remembering his manners.
He calms down, nodding. "Right. Thank you. Apparently they know, er, knew, a different set of manners than you or I."
(Don’t have a preference, sorry)
She smiles softly at them, closing the curtains back up. She locks the wagon doors (Pm or implied?)
“It does appear so, doesn’t it? Or at least they did before I happened to… well, that doesn’t matter. Would you like something to drink?” He asks.
(Ill pick two freshies for ya, and, implied.)
"They wont bother anybody else anymore." he says, back to the horses. "No, I'm fine, thank you. You?"
Domino is setting trees alight, watching as they blaze, but not burn.
A white, 6ft tall, toned Raigaar sits at the bar drinking mug after mug.
“I will likely not need much else to drink for quite some time. Though their blood was quite thin, not as satisfying as yours.”
Antonio walks through the forest, his uniform ripped and covered in his own blood, wounded heavily.
Thane sits down in the bar, ordering himself some water, and that’s it, waving at them with a smile.
"Oh, you fed off of them." he says, chuckling. "We're off to a friendlier place next, so you wont be stuck in here for the upteenth time."
"Oh, [GP], babe, you okay?..." she says, rushing to him and doing a preliminary check.
"Would the lad like a drink?" he says in a heavy drunken English accent, maybe he means the hatching?
“It hasn’t been too bad, I’ve been able to catch up on my reading, and it was quite the wonderful time thinking about you when you weren’t here.”
He seems to have been cut and impaled in several places, but he’s been pushing himself to stay conscious. When he tries to reply, blood just comes out his mouth.
He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head “I don’t think they would, but thank ya fer offerin’ pardner.”
"Have you read Omi's book yet?" he asks, crawling to the back and laying across their lap
"Shhh, don't tell me right now." she holds and supports him, healing his wounds for 22 and 24 hit points.
"Of... course." he says, smiling at nothing and leaning on the bar.
“I haven’t reached that one just yet, but from the recommendation I will soon.” He says, rubbing their head as they lay in their lap.
Most of his major wounds heal, though some are left, and with that, he collapses into her arms, looking up at her.
“Where are ya from?” He asks, walking down to sit next to them.
He leans into the touch, closing his eyes "I preferred Sam's, they write about spring with much more passion and detail."
"Did my dad do this?..." she asks, kissing his forehead, healing another Dice rolls not yet available for this section.
"Shashoni Region... You?" in his mug is... apple juice?
“Passion is an important part of any writing, it tells a story in and of itself, without passion, nothing could truly exist.”
He shakes his head, blushing at the kiss, though barely visible through the blood on him “No…”
“Gnarly Desert, ya drinkin’ apple juice there? A good choice if I’ve ever seen one.”
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
He does what he can to slip through her grasp and emerge on top, surprisingly flexible for someone so large, though he doesn’t try to pin her yet.
A street food stand has opened up near the church.
A pig creature sits in this "stand," with what appears to be a cheap and damaged but still-living golem recycled into a fryer sat down behind him, the sizzle of frying fish filling the air as it watches them to make sure they don't burn. It's barely a stand. It's a couple pieces of broken wood beneath a leaky fabric awning to keep the rain out. A large wooden icon of the Redeemer leans against the back wall.
The porcine spirit looks drowsy, and, to the untrained eye, might even have fallen asleep sitting there on his rug, all dressed in rumpled and heavily patched workman's clothes, clean due to his easy access to the river. The damaged crate in front of him has cones of newspaper with fried fish in them on little stands made of bent coat hangers. His crumpled hat is sat upside-down beside the crate with the words "Please pay 1 CP if you can afford to" stitched onto it.
He silently fondles what look like dog tags around his neck, but upon close inspection seem to be stamped tin icons of various saints. Collected like trading cards.
Ashi, who is hungry enough to eat an equine creature, walks over. She fishes around in his bag, pulling out five copper and setting it down.
The spirit had started moving to get her some fresh hot fish out of the fryer for her before she even got close. He offers her a veritable bouquet of fish, calamari, and all sorts of seafood. He gives her a gentle smile. "Thank you for coming, ma'am. I hope this will sate your appetite. I'm afraid we don't have lemons or sauce this week."
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
He does what he can to slip through her grasp and emerge on top, surprisingly flexible for someone so large, though he doesn’t try to pin her yet.
She grins and grabs him by the hips, flipping him over and pinning to the ground.
A street food stand has opened up near the church.
A pig creature sits in this "stand," with what appears to be a cheap and damaged but still-living golem recycled into a fryer sat down behind him, the sizzle of frying fish filling the air as it watches them to make sure they don't burn. It's barely a stand. It's a couple pieces of broken wood beneath a leaky fabric awning to keep the rain out. A large wooden icon of the Redeemer leans against the back wall.
The porcine spirit looks drowsy, and, to the untrained eye, might even have fallen asleep sitting there on his rug, all dressed in rumpled and heavily patched workman's clothes, clean due to his easy access to the river. The damaged crate in front of him has cones of newspaper with fried fish in them on little stands made of bent coat hangers. His crumpled hat is sat upside-down beside the crate with the words "Please pay 1 CP if you can afford to" stitched onto it.
He silently fondles what look like dog tags around his neck, but upon close inspection seem to be stamped tin icons of various saints. Collected like trading cards.
Ashi, who is hungry enough to eat an equine creature, walks over. She fishes around in his bag, pulling out five copper and setting it down.
The spirit had started moving to get her some fresh hot fish out of the fryer for her before she even got close. He offers her a veritable bouquet of fish, calamari, and all sorts of seafood. He gives her a gentle smile. "Thank you for coming, ma'am. I hope this will sate your appetite. I'm afraid we don't have lemons or sauce this week."
"All good honey! Just hungry for something fried." She devours it in less than a few seconds.
She cuddles up to them, humming the song in between kissing their cheek.
"Okay..." he says, blinking a bit, stretching. "Where are we?... like, town wise."
Once he sees they've stopped chasing the cart, he stops the horses. "You did something... okay, cool.. we're good now." he begins to breathe heavily, adrenaline tapering off.
(Good place to end it?)
He feels the drowsiness in himself fading as she looks out of the wagon's curtained windows "We are only an hour away. Would you like to do anything in that hour?”
"You are safe my dear, consider them handled." He closes his book, sitting next to them as they stop the horses "Deep breaths, I wouldn't let you get hurt under any circumstances."
(yeah, want owt else?)
"Two rounds, right now.... Please?" he says, remembering his manners.
He calms down, nodding. "Right. Thank you. Apparently they know, er, knew, a different set of manners than you or I."
(Don’t have a preference, sorry)
She smiles softly at them, closing the curtains back up. She locks the wagon doors (Pm or implied?)
“It does appear so, doesn’t it? Or at least they did before I happened to… well, that doesn’t matter. Would you like something to drink?” He asks.
(Ill pick two freshies for ya, and, implied.)
"They wont bother anybody else anymore." he says, back to the horses. "No, I'm fine, thank you. You?"
Domino is setting trees alight, watching as they blaze, but not burn.
A white, 6ft tall, toned Raigaar sits at the bar drinking mug after mug.
“I will likely not need much else to drink for quite some time. Though their blood was quite thin, not as satisfying as yours.”
Antonio walks through the forest, his uniform ripped and covered in his own blood, wounded heavily.
Thane sits down in the bar, ordering himself some water, and that’s it, waving at them with a smile.
"Oh, you fed off of them." he says, chuckling. "We're off to a friendlier place next, so you wont be stuck in here for the upteenth time."
"Oh, [GP], babe, you okay?..." she says, rushing to him and doing a preliminary check.
"Would the lad like a drink?" he says in a heavy drunken English accent, maybe he means the hatching?
“It hasn’t been too bad, I’ve been able to catch up on my reading, and it was quite the wonderful time thinking about you when you weren’t here.”
He seems to have been cut and impaled in several places, but he’s been pushing himself to stay conscious. When he tries to reply, blood just comes out his mouth.
He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head “I don’t think they would, but thank ya fer offerin’ pardner.”
"Have you read Omi's book yet?" he asks, crawling to the back and laying across their lap
"Shhh, don't tell me right now." she holds and supports him, healing his wounds for 22 and 24 hit points.
"Of... course." he says, smiling at nothing and leaning on the bar.
“I haven’t reached that one just yet, but from the recommendation I will soon.” He says, rubbing their head as they lay in their lap.
Most of his major wounds heal, though some are left, and with that, he collapses into her arms, looking up at her.
“Where are ya from?” He asks, walking down to sit next to them.
He leans into the touch, closing his eyes "I preferred Sam's, they write about spring with much more passion and detail."
"Did my dad do this?..." she asks, kissing his forehead, healing another Dice rolls not yet available for this section.
"Shashoni Region... You?" in his mug is... apple juice?
“Passion is an important part of any writing, it tells a story in and of itself, without passion, nothing could truly exist.”
He shakes his head, blushing at the kiss, though barely visible through the blood on him “No…”
“Gnarly Desert, ya drinkin’ apple juice there? A good choice if I’ve ever seen one.”
"What's your passion, love?..." he asks, purple eyes flittering with stats
"Well, lets get you laid down..." she says, sighing and carrying him to her room in the new house.
"Trying... to sober up!" he says, hiccuping. "Can't do desert's, too much fur..."
“Reading, writing, loving you, the pleasures of life.” He says, smiling down at them just a little bit.
He shakes his head weakly, unable to do anything to stop them though, looking at them in the eyes, apologetic.
“Pardner, I know a good way ta sober up, an’ it works better than apple juice.”
Mac is playing with dominos, making a domino chain. *Mac is 5'7, scrawny lil goober with scars, punk rock femboy clothes, dark grey fur with grey spots*
The twin boys are walking now, wielding pretend swords, aspiring to be like their father
*uhhh idk who else*
Mac can see a very tall, almost 8 ft, woman walking past him. She has a large afro made of dark blue hair that turns light blue in an ombre effect at the ends. Her skin is the color of coffee mixed with milk and dappled with light blue scales. She wears a black tank-top that accents her curves and a pair of black shorts. She walks over to the bar, ordering a glass bottle of water.
The spirit had started moving to get her some fresh hot fish out of the fryer for her before she even got close. He offers her a veritable bouquet of fish, calamari, and all sorts of seafood. He gives her a gentle smile. "Thank you for coming, ma'am. I hope this will sate your appetite. I'm afraid we don't have lemons or sauce this week."
"All good honey! Just hungry for something fried." She devours it in less than a few seconds.
It's hot and it's good, especially for just some fried and breaded fish. It's very fresh, too. He looks a bit surprised, but not much. "You've got quite an appetite!" He begins to prepare some more cones. "My name is Scartosso. I have sauce and lemons when I can afford them, but business has been slow this week. You should see this place after Christmas or Easter, though!"
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
He does what he can to slip through her grasp and emerge on top, surprisingly flexible for someone so large, though he doesn’t try to pin her yet.
She grins and grabs him by the hips, flipping him over and pinning to the ground.
The grass and earth around them seems to lift them both up as his eyes glow even more green as she controls the surroundings, flipping them both over, pinning her, smiling wide, “Gotcha!”
He takes a fighting stance with his bare hands, “Whatever ya are ready, love.”
She smirks as, suddenly, lightning shoots over her hair, a wreath of storm clouds forming around her crown like a halo. She bounces on her feet, electrical energy forming from the movement.
He looks at the storm clouds, and before smiling in a combative sort of way, shifting his foot stance to be more defensive. His hands become fists as he prepares to fight, rolling his shoulders. (Pure rp or roll init?)
*Pure RP*
She seems to do the same, mimicking him in a way. In fact, even the thunderous way she shifts is exactly like him. She smiles at him and rubs her hands, sending out a bolt of lightning towards him. It doesn't exactly hit him, more so giving him a little shock.
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
He does what he can to slip through her grasp and emerge on top, surprisingly flexible for someone so large, though he doesn’t try to pin her yet.
She grins and grabs him by the hips, flipping him over and pinning to the ground.
The grass and earth around them seems to lift them both up as his eyes glow even more green as she controls the surroundings, flipping them both over, pinning her, smiling wide, “Gotcha!”
"I'm not nice love, just truthful." She said.
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 raises an eyebrow “What do ya think? Ya gonna doubt these fingers?” He holds up his hands.
She looks deeply into their eyes, for a moment simply admiring them visibly before nodding “That must be a truly awful curse, though your eyes are beautiful indeed. I am sorry that you must deal with that.”
His hair shoots up the moment the bolt lands on him even a fraction, sending out a thunderous wave of force that pushes her back. He drops low, charging in her a sort of football stance, attempting to get her feet from underneath her, wrestling her to the ground.
She allows this, falling backwards and laughing a bit. She wrestles him to the side, trying to pin him.
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
“Passion is an important part of any writing, it tells a story in and of itself, without passion, nothing could truly exist.”
He shakes his head, blushing at the kiss, though barely visible through the blood on him “No…”
“Gnarly Desert, ya drinkin’ apple juice there? A good choice if I’ve ever seen one.”
He does what he can to slip through her grasp and emerge on top, surprisingly flexible for someone so large, though he doesn’t try to pin her yet.
The spirit had started moving to get her some fresh hot fish out of the fryer for her before she even got close. He offers her a veritable bouquet of fish, calamari, and all sorts of seafood. He gives her a gentle smile. "Thank you for coming, ma'am. I hope this will sate your appetite. I'm afraid we don't have lemons or sauce this week."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She grins and grabs him by the hips, flipping him over and pinning to the ground.
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
"All good honey! Just hungry for something fried." She devours it in less than a few seconds.
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
*👉🏻👈🏻*
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
“Reading, writing, loving you, the pleasures of life.” He says, smiling down at them just a little bit.
He shakes his head weakly, unable to do anything to stop them though, looking at them in the eyes, apologetic.
“Pardner, I know a good way ta sober up, an’ it works better than apple juice.”
Mac can see a very tall, almost 8 ft, woman walking past him. She has a large afro made of dark blue hair that turns light blue in an ombre effect at the ends. Her skin is the color of coffee mixed with milk and dappled with light blue scales. She wears a black tank-top that accents her curves and a pair of black shorts. She walks over to the bar, ordering a glass bottle of water.
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 hot and it's good, especially for just some fried and breaded fish. It's very fresh, too. He looks a bit surprised, but not much. "You've got quite an appetite!" He begins to prepare some more cones. "My name is Scartosso. I have sauce and lemons when I can afford them, but business has been slow this week. You should see this place after Christmas or Easter, though!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The grass and earth around them seems to lift them both up as his eyes glow even more green as she controls the surroundings, flipping them both over, pinning her, smiling wide, “Gotcha!”
The grass and earth around them seems to lift them both up as his eyes glow even more green as she controls the surroundings, flipping them both over, pinning her, smiling wide, “Gotcha!”
*I'd be up for it if you are.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels