The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
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.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
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.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
*I know. But I am very worried.*
*I know. But i swear im fine. -hugs- *
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.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
*I know. But I am very worried.*
*I know. But i swear im fine. -hugs- *
*[-sighs-] okay.*
*Well, here are my characters.*
Richard was seated in the Sith's chair once again. He had donned a black dress shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, a gold-colored tie that complemented his glowing eyes, and a white suit jacket with golden lapels. He appeared to be lost in deep contemplation, gazing up at the intricate ceiling above him. It was clear that he was deep in thought, perhaps pondering the events that had led him to that moment, or maybe strategizing his next move. He bites on his bottom lip while raising a hand in the air, seeming to reach out for the ceiling.
Xan is staring at a deep slash on his wrist, watching blood stream out with a look of fascination. His golden eyes glow as he watches the rivets of crimson streak down his pale skin.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
*I know. But I am very worried.*
*I know. But i swear im fine. -hugs- *
*[-sighs-] okay.*
*Well, here are my characters.*
Richard was seated in the Sith's chair once again. He had donned a black dress shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, a gold-colored tie that complemented his glowing eyes, and a white suit jacket with golden lapels. He appeared to be lost in deep contemplation, gazing up at the intricate ceiling above him. It was clear that he was deep in thought, perhaps pondering the events that had led him to that moment, or maybe strategizing his next move. He bites on his bottom lip while raising a hand in the air, seeming to reach out for the ceiling.
Xan is staring at a deep slash on his wrist, watching blood stream out with a look of fascination. His golden eyes glow as he watches the rivets of crimson streak down his pale skin.
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
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.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
*E X C U S E M E W H A T?*
*I'm fine now.*
*S T I L L.*
*Yeah i know i know.*
*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
*it wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
*[SHAKES]*
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
*I know. But I am very worried.*
*I know. But i swear im fine. -hugs- *
*[-sighs-] okay.*
*Well, here are my characters.*
Richard was seated in the Sith's chair once again. He had donned a black dress shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, a gold-colored tie that complemented his glowing eyes, and a white suit jacket with golden lapels. He appeared to be lost in deep contemplation, gazing up at the intricate ceiling above him. It was clear that he was deep in thought, perhaps pondering the events that had led him to that moment, or maybe strategizing his next move. He bites on his bottom lip while raising a hand in the air, seeming to reach out for the ceiling.
Xan is staring at a deep slash on his wrist, watching blood stream out with a look of fascination. His golden eyes glow as he watches the rivets of crimson streak down his pale skin.
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
The young man slips through a puddle of mud and lands on the ground, hard. There is a mechanical hum as a bulbous, dark creature, with many appendages such as spikes, shears, and rods. It seems to move in a forward roll with spikes to grab onto the earth.
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.
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
The young man slips through a puddle of mud and lands on the ground, hard. There is a mechanical hum as a bulbous, dark creature, with many appendages such as spikes, shears, and rods. It seems to move in a forward roll with spikes to grab onto the earth.
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
The young man slips through a puddle of mud and lands on the ground, hard. There is a mechanical hum as a bulbous, dark creature, with many appendages such as spikes, shears, and rods. It seems to move in a forward roll with spikes to grab onto the earth.
Xan just sits there, watching in amusement.
The young man yanks his makeshift spear off of his back, holding it steady, fear in his eyes.
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.
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made from a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
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.
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 man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
The young man slips through a puddle of mud and lands on the ground, hard. There is a mechanical hum as a bulbous, dark creature, with many appendages such as spikes, shears, and rods. It seems to move in a forward roll with spikes to grab onto the earth.
Xan just sits there, watching in amusement.
The young man yanks his makeshift spear off of his back, holding it steady, fear in his eyes.
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.
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*why havent you seen a nurse or doctor yet??*
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 wasn't severe or anythin. Just a few dots. Its happened before.*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*[SHAKES]*
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
*Please stop. I'm fine. Probably just tore something in my throat.*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*I know. But I am very worried.*
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
*I know. But i swear im fine. -hugs- *
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*[-sighs-] okay.*
*Well, here are my characters.*
Richard was seated in the Sith's chair once again. He had donned a black dress shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, a gold-colored tie that complemented his glowing eyes, and a white suit jacket with golden lapels. He appeared to be lost in deep contemplation, gazing up at the intricate ceiling above him. It was clear that he was deep in thought, perhaps pondering the events that had led him to that moment, or maybe strategizing his next move. He bites on his bottom lip while raising a hand in the air, seeming to reach out for the ceiling.
Xan is staring at a deep slash on his wrist, watching blood stream out with a look of fascination. His golden eyes glow as he watches the rivets of crimson streak down his pale skin.
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
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made form a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Xan watches and tilts his head, no fascinated by whatever this is, running through the woods like its life depended on it. He follows after.
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 young man slips through a puddle of mud and lands on the ground, hard. There is a mechanical hum as a bulbous, dark creature, with many appendages such as spikes, shears, and rods. It seems to move in a forward roll with spikes to grab onto the earth.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Xan just sits there, watching in amusement.
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 young man yanks his makeshift spear off of his back, holding it steady, fear in his eyes.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*Morning all!*
*Morning! Heres who i have character wise*
The troopers are doing their rounds, patrolling with AT-ST's. AT-AT's wait in their docs, the pilots sitting inside.
Lance is sitting in the woods, cradling a severely burned owlbears head.
-new character-
A young man, about 18 or 19, with short black hair, hazel eyes, a white t-shirt, brown pants, and running shoes sprints from the woods. A crudely made spear, made from a pole and a knife lashed together with twine, and backpack hang off his back.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
(Almost fainted in my computer class :D )
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
*gtg for a little bit. be back in 40-45 min ish*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*IM BACK :D*
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
*Yayyyy!!!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*[R2D2 HAPPY SCREECH]*
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.