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03/01/2024 11:47 PM 

The Dark

THE DARK BEFORE DAWN- THE NARROWS, PART 1Said the sun to the moon, โ€œYou cannot stay.โ€ โ€œWell, if youโ€™re lookinโ€™ for work, I could probably use another good bartender in this joint. Especially someone handy like you, who could double as a bouncer when the fightinโ€™ starts. As long as you donโ€™t actually go lookinโ€™ for trouble. You got lucky I saved your ass this time, but donโ€™t push it, pal.โ€ Alfred was dismayed to find himself actually considering Harvey Bullockโ€™s employment offer. After six weeks of living in The Narrows, Gothamโ€™s impoverished, notoriously crime-ridden island district, the former butler of Wayne Manor knew his dwindling savings would need to be supplemented sooner than later. The possibility of tending bar where Bullock had taken refuge after resigning from the GCPD was both a blessing and a new low. โ€œI just may take you up on that one, mate,โ€ Alfred nodded, absently staring down at his empty shot glass. โ€œI reckon itโ€™s something to consider, iโ€™nnit? At this stage, at least.โ€ โ€œAw cโ€™mon, you make it sound like itโ€™s the worst decision you could make around here.โ€ Ever the attentive barkeep, Harvey was already tipping the bottle over Alfredโ€™s glass for another refill. โ€œThis place ainโ€™t so bad. Sure, itโ€™s The Narrows, but like I said, I like this bar. Itโ€™s got history. And besides, with your luck lately, and after what we went through tonight, Iโ€™m thinkinโ€™ we might make a pretty good team after all.โ€ Jim Gordon had left their company well over an hour before, having heard the radio dispatch alerting that his escaped murder suspect, Alfred Pennyworth, and the real perp who implicated Alfred in the death of Tiffany Gale had gotten into a brawl at a nearby drinking hole. Bullock, refusing Gordonโ€™s subsequent request to return to the force, unapologetically told the new police captain to hit the bricks. Alfred was mourning the fresh loss of his waitress friend, a woman he barely knew despite their intense connection. Teenage billionaire Bruce Wayne had sacked Pennyworth as both his legal guardian and family butler five weeks earlier. If ever a night called for strong booze and commiseration between two disgruntled souls in a Narrows dive bar, this was it. โ€œI shall sleep on it, Harvey.โ€ Alfred lifted his eyes, watching as the former detective defied city ordinance by pouring himself another shot while still on the clock behind the bar. What use was there for law in The Narrows? What good even was common sense even, anymore? Mr. Yes Sir, No Sir! Mr. Queensberry Rules and Discipline, Alfredโ€™s military comrade, Reginald Payne, once called him. Alfred was starting to wonder if heโ€™d been wrong to believe structure and purpose could save the day. Oh, if only you could see me from the grave now, Reg. Youโ€™d have a right good laugh, wouldnโ€™t you? Almost as if he read Alfredโ€™s mind, Bullock clinked their glasses together. โ€œWell, at least youโ€™ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight, and not in a cell at the precinct. Listening to Gordonโ€™s holier-than-thou bullsh*t all nightโ€™s the last thing you need.โ€ They drank to that one after multiple earlier toasts in Tiffanyโ€™s memory thanks to Bullockโ€™s Irish sentimentality. โ€œI thought you were good mates, not just partners, you and Gordon,โ€ A bleary-eyed but still conscious Alfred stated matter-of-factly. Being present while Bullock gave Gordon an open list of specific grievances about the latterโ€™s questionable conduct with Gothamโ€™s criminal underworld had been awkwardly enlightening. But Alfred was in no hurry to return to his tiny little flat a few blocks away. Patience and persistence had paid off when he was forced to secure semi-decent housing in the Narrows on a restricted budget. But after losing Tiffany that night, and narrowly avoiding being framed as her killer, Alfred did not relish being alone with his rage. โ€œYeah, well, sometimes friendships arenโ€™t all that, am I right?โ€ Bullock pointed to Alfredโ€™s newly drained glass, but the Whitechapel native refused another drink with a polite gesture of his open palm. โ€œIn light of recent events, Iโ€™m inclined to agree.โ€ Alfred could feel the weight of Bullockโ€™s well-meaning stare. Both men were skilled in the art of observation and interrogation. Harvey couldnโ€™t shake his training any more than Alfred could fully shed his own. They were both soldiers who fought very different wars, yet recognized common battles between them. โ€œWell, I donโ€™t know what all happened with you and Bruce to get you to leave a cushy life at Wayne Manor for The Narrows,โ€ Harvey offered, โ€œbut if it makes you feel any better, just try to imagine Bruce waking up with a killer hangover and having to make his own breakfast or mop up his ownโ€ฆโ€. Thankfully Bullockโ€™s poor attempt to lighten the gloom was interrupted by the buzzing of Alfredโ€™s mobile phone. Reaching into the pocket of the casual jacket heโ€™d been wearing all evening, Alfred produced the phone and stared at the caller ID. Bruce Wayne. Once upon a time, not long ago, the boyโ€™s name had flashed across the screen more affectionately as Master B. โ€œIโ€™ll make myself scarce.โ€ Harvey could read the callerโ€™s identity in Alfredโ€™s expression and was already sauntering away to give the man some privacy. After all, Pennyworth was never one to miss a request from Bruce. But Alfred merely muted the call and slipped the phone back into the depths of his coat. Youโ€™ve got a lot of bloody nerve ringing me at this hour, Brucie. Best you find someone whoโ€™ll tolerate your sh*t. I donโ€™t give a toss. โ€œThatโ€™s what voicemail is for,โ€ Alfred said aloud, surprising even himself at his refusal to take Bruceโ€™s call. โ€œInnit?โ€ Carefully sliding off his barstool, he tried settling his tab with some argument from Bullock. It was time to take his leave while he could still feel his legs. To be continued. created by creativian #stardust{ width: 500px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2;} .inner{ width: 450px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 25px 10px 25px 10px;} .secondinner{ width: 430px; background: #1d1d1d; border: 1px solid #f2f2f2; margin: 9px 0px 9px 0px;} .title{ width: 350px; font-family: georgia; font-weight: 800; font-size: 50px; letter-spacing: -4px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: 40px; line-height: 90%; border-top: 20px solid #fff; padding-top: 40px; color: #fff;} .uppersubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .bottomsubtitle{ font-size: 8px; font-family: georgia; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px;} .text{ width: 350px; text-align:justify; font-size: 10.5px; margin: 40px 10px 40px 10px; line-height: 140%; color: #fff; font-family: courier; padding-bottom: 40px; border-bottom: 20px solid #fff;}

๐šƒ๐™ท๐™ด ๐™ต๐™ฐ๐™ป๐™ป๐™ด๐™ฝ ๐™พ๐™ฝ๐™ด

03/01/2024 08:46 PM 

You Underestimate My Power. (Rules)

Disclaimer: I don't claim ownership or rights over the character Anakin Skywalker. He's a creation of George Lucas. The characters rights and ownership belong to Lucas Films Ltd. and Disney. I don't claim to know the actor Hayden Christensen who plays Anakin Skywalker either.Now with that understood just some guidelines to know so we're all on the same page. I. I'm not going to be on everyday. As much as I love Anakin Skywalker he's not my main page. I will write when my muse hits here. If this an issue than you can unfriend me right now. II. I'm a para to multi-para writer who without meaning to does dabble in novella writing. As far how I write I do prefer to rp in comments or my group page. As for content I am well over the age of 18. So there will be some content in here not meant for children.III. Be warned my spelling and grammar can be off at times. No one is perfect.  I will try my best and all I ask is you do the same.IV. As of March 1, 2024. I'm a member of The Catacombs RPG. Even though I am going to branch out and add non-RPG members to this page. Be aware my obilgations to the group will come first.V. My take on Anakin Skywalker is more so blend of the prequels & Clone Wars with heavy AU elements. I can play Anakin as a heroic jedi knight or the villainous Darth Vader.  There will be heavy AU plot points I am going to playing with Anakin as well -- One of them being that he was him winning the duel against Obi Wan Kenobi on Mustafar being one of them. VI. Another thing I'm going AU is who I am shipping with. I am well aware of the fact the only person Anakin ever loved was Padme Amidala. However, this is RP. My Anakin Skywalker is gonna be shipping with Wanda Maximoff from Marvel Comics, a crossover pairing I personally support. The person playing Wanda is also my S.O. who I love very much.. I apologize if this a disappointment but please respect the fact all I'm offering is platonic friendships. VII. Given I know this verse's popularity comes and goes like the wind. I'm branching out into other verses - Star Trek, Doctor Who, Dune, Battlestar Galactica, Rebel Moon to name a few verses. Outside of the sci-fi verses, I will add other verses like DC, Marvel, Harry Potter. VIII. This page is meant to be fun. I don't tolerate drama or needless trivial bullsh*t. If you're not here to write or be a pleasant presence on my page well.. I don't want you here. Plain and simple.  May The Force Be With You.


03/01/2024 10:01 PM 


DISCLAIMER Murder, drug abuse, violence, and child loss are only some of the triggers. MAYDAY is a 21+ group with triggering themes. We will not hold our writers back; if you can't handle heavy content, this group may not be for you. ACTIVITY  Members are expected to contribute at least one in-character post per week on site. These posts may take various forms such as drabbles, character studies, or social media posts. No minimum requirement for 1x1 writing is imposed. Our focus is on group writing and we do not mandate or monitor individual pairings. Instead of a point system, our admins rely on active participation within the server as a gauge of member activity. Acknowledging the potential for plot stagnation, we envision the long-term trajectory of MAYDAY to involve the eventual rescue of remaining characters and a transition to a town-based RPG setting. DRAMA  We recognize that diverse personalities may lead to occasional conflicts outside the RPG context. Members are encouraged to handle personal disagreements maturely and privately. The primary concern is to prevent anyone from feeling uncomfortable within the RP community.


03/01/2024 03:44 PM 

- The Mage -

Name: Aurora FaeAge: 24Height: 5ft 5Physical Characteristics: Thick long brunette hair | Blue eyes | Light freckles on her noes | Small diamond birth mark on her right shoulder. Face Claim (if preferred):Aurora Fae was the second daughter of a small farmer and his wife. A child of five, Aurora was the third oldest of one sister and three brothers. At the age of eleven, despite the unwillingness of her mother, she was taken by a band of mages when they had traced the girls powers. Aurora's mother Eleanor, knew they had mages blood, though she had hoped it had skipped a second degeneration. It had not and Aurora was the next to carry on the gene.Aurora was harshly trained to become what she is. Aurora is a White Mage (Healer). She is capable of all kinds of healing, including that of nature. She could also give a person eternal life, however it is dangerous to herself and gratly dangerous.  She has come to be one of the most powerful mages in the realm, yet she despises the name she has made for herself. She wish's nothing more than to hide back into the shadows from where she came. She is quiet, choosing a life of solitude. Though she is not shy and rather quick witted. She will not hesitate to put one in their place should they need it. 

๐™๐™š๐™™ ๐™Œ๐™ช๐™š๐™š๐™ฃ.

03/01/2024 03:04 PM 

Owes List.

I OWE YOU.Phoenix-S-3-1-24YOU OWE MEUPDATED AS OF 3-1-24


03/01/2024 01:47 PM 

how do you need to be loved?

how do you need to be loved? till the end of forever.        you need to be loved unconditionally. you need to be reminded that love is not temporary, that you deserve it. that those who love you will not leave. you need to be loved the way angels love humanity. or how devils love angels. you need to be loved in greatness, in fullness, you need to be loved hard and fierce. loud, shout it to the ends of the earth, your love won’t leave. you need to be loved when nothing else will be. you need to realize you are worthy even through the end.


02/29/2024 11:49 PM 

Mermaid Fins

My name is Ariya Acadia and though i may look human unfortunately im a mermaid which is way different than our counter parts the sirens. Mermaids are generally nice mostly shy folk but were secretive..often hiding from humans. Bow for my self i may look like a twenty year old but im centuries old. Mermaids stop aging once they hit adult which has its perfects and nearly impossible to kill or capture. Though it doesnt stop us from wandering a shore and blending into the human population and thats pretty much my story im blending in, keeping hidden from wandering eyes.If your interested in writing let me know, im a novella writer so expect long replies but all i ask is that its 21 or older i do write maturally no children. Now romance is acceptable but im not here for smaut/ero roleplays only. Im always on and pretty reasonable at getting to replies. I typically write in fantasy verses based off of who my character is, so The Vampire Diaries, Lord of the rings, The hobbit or any other fantasy verses i can work with and im open to crossovers. 

๐‘…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘…๐‘’๐’น

02/29/2024 11:37 PM 

Loose Pages

(Snippets from Rose's journals)~{๐’ฎ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‰๐‘œ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“€๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐’น๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“๐’พ๐“€๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‰๐‘œ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“€๐’พ๐’น๐“ˆ. ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“๐‘’๐’ป๐“‰ ๐ผ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐“‡๐‘’๐’น๐“ˆ.}{...๐’ถ๐’ป๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡ ๐ผ ๐’ท๐“‡๐‘œ๐“€๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“‚ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‚๐‘’. ๐‘…๐’ถ๐“…๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐‘’๐“ ๐’ฉ๐‘œ๐’พ๐“‡'๐“ˆ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“๐“Ž ๐“ˆ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐’น ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“๐“ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐“๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐‘œ ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“€ ๐“Š๐“…๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐ผ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐‘’๐’น ๐’ถ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น ๐“๐’ถ๐“Š๐‘”๐’ฝ.}{ ๐’ด๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐’ป๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐’ท๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐’น ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“๐“‰๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“‰๐“Š๐“‡๐“ƒ๐‘’๐’น, ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‡๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘’๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘’๐“‰๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐“‡๐’พ๐“‹๐’ถ๐“. ๐’ข๐“‡๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“…๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“€๐“ƒ๐’พ๐’ป๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘’๐“‚๐’ท๐‘’๐’น๐’น๐‘’๐’น ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰, ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘”๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐“Œ๐’พ๐’ป๐“‰ ๐“‰๐“Œ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“‰๐“Š๐“‡๐“ƒ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“๐’น ๐’ป๐“‡๐’พ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’น. ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‰๐“Œ๐‘œ ๐“‰๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐‘’๐’ถ๐’ธ๐’ฝ ๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐‘’๐“‡, ๐“๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‹๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“๐“๐‘œ๐“Œ...}{๐’ฒ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‡๐‘’๐’น ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“‚๐’พ๐“๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐“…๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐‘œ๐“…๐’ฝ๐’พ๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“‰๐‘œ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“๐’พ๐’ท๐“‡๐’ถ๐“‡๐“Ž ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’น๐’พ๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘”๐“๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‚๐’พ๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐’ท๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น๐“Œ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Œ ๐“Œ๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐’พ๐“‚๐“…๐“๐‘’๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’น๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‚๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’น๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ. ๐ป๐‘’- ๐’ถ ๐“€๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ถ ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“๐“‚ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’น๐’ถ๐“‡๐“€๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‚๐‘’- ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐‘’๐“๐‘’๐“‹๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น, ๐“…๐‘œ๐“Œ๐‘’๐“‡๐’ป๐“Š๐“ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐’ถ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”: ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“…๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐‘”๐“Š๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“‚๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’พ๐“‰๐“Ž ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“๐“‚๐“ˆ. ๐’ฉ๐‘œ๐“Œ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐ผ'๐“‹๐‘’ ๐’ท๐‘’๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“‚๐’ท๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐ผ ๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“€ ๐’ท๐’ถ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“๐“€๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ป๐‘’๐‘’๐“ ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐“Œ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”. ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“๐“ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“†๐“Š๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“๐“ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐’น๐‘’๐‘’๐“… ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐‘’.}{๐ผ๐“ƒ ๐“๐’พ๐’ป๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น๐‘’๐“‡๐‘’๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Œ, ๐’ธ๐“๐’ถ๐’น ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ป๐“Š๐“‡๐“ˆ. ๐ผ๐“ƒ ๐“Š๐“ƒ-๐“๐’พ๐’ป๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐“๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“ˆ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐’น ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐‘’๐“๐’น. ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“Œ? ๐ผ ๐“ƒ๐’ถ๐“…, ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐‘”๐‘’, ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž, ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”... ๐’ฎ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐’ป๐“‰๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐“‰๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“…๐“‰๐’ถ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“†๐“Š๐‘’๐‘’๐“ƒ... ๐ธ๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡๐“ƒ๐’พ๐“‰๐“Ž ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“๐“๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’น๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐‘’.}{๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Š๐‘”๐’ฝ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ ๐‘’๐“‹๐’พ๐’น๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’พ๐“๐“๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“๐“ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐’พ๐“‰ "๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐‘”๐“Š๐‘’". ๐’ฎ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐’ถ๐’ป๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’œ๐’ท๐“Ž๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“€ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’พ๐’น๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’ป๐’ถ๐“‚๐’พ๐“๐’พ๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘’๐‘”๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ถ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ป๐’พ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’พ๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐’ท๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น๐“ˆ... ๐’น๐’ถ๐“Š๐‘”๐’ฝ๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ... ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“Œ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‡๐“ƒ๐“ˆ... ๐’ถ๐“๐“ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ƒ๐’พ๐‘”๐’ฝ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐‘’ ๐“‰๐“‡๐’ถ๐’ธ๐‘’. ๐’ฎ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“…๐’พ๐’ธ๐’พ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“ˆ๐“…๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐’น ๐“๐’พ๐“€๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“๐’น๐’ป๐’พ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘œ ๐“‰๐“‡๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“‰๐“‡๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐“ƒ๐‘œ ๐“๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐‘’๐“‡. ๐’ฏ๐‘œ ๐“…๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‰๐‘’๐’ธ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‚๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“๐“‹๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’พ๐“‡ ๐‘œ๐“Œ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“Ž ๐’ท๐‘’๐‘”๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“…๐’ถ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐“Š๐“… ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’. ๐ฟ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐’ป๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“…๐‘’๐“‡๐’ธ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“…๐‘’๐‘œ๐“…๐“๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“‚๐’ถ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐’น...}{"๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Š ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“๐“‰ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐’ป๐’ป๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ธ๐’ฝ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’." ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’ ๐’ป๐’พ๐“๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐’น๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐‘’๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“…๐‘œ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐“๐’ถ๐’น๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’พ๐“‰'๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“‚๐’พ๐’น ๐’ท๐’ถ๐’ธ๐“€. ๐’ฒ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐ผ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘”๐“‡๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น ๐ผ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐“ˆ๐‘’๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‡๐‘’๐“‚๐’ถ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘œ๐“Œ๐“ƒ ๐“€๐’พ๐“๐“๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“…๐’ถ๐“‡๐’ถ๐“๐“๐‘’๐“ ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“‚๐‘’; ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐“‡๐‘œ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“ˆ๐“๐’พ๐“‰ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐’น๐“Ž ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‡๐‘’๐’น ๐’ท๐‘’๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ธ๐‘œ๐‘”๐“ƒ๐’พ๐“‰๐’พ๐‘œ๐“ƒ...}{ ...๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐“‡๐“…๐“‡๐’พ๐“ˆ๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“ˆ๐’ถ๐“Œ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐“๐‘œ๐’ธ๐“€. ๐’ฉ๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐“๐‘’, ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“…๐“ˆ, ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“‹๐’พ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐‘œ. ๐’œ ๐’น๐‘’๐’ธ๐’ถ๐’น๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐’ท๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐‘’๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡๐“ƒ๐’ถ๐“ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“๐“๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘’๐“ƒ๐’น๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‚๐’พ๐’น๐“ƒ๐’พ๐‘”๐’ฝ๐“‰ ๐’น๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐‘œ ๐“‚๐’ถ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐’ธ๐‘’ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“€๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐’น๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’ถ๐’ท๐“๐’พ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น ๐ผ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐’น ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐’พ๐’ถ๐“๐“ˆ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐’ธ๐‘’๐’น ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰๐“ˆ๐’พ๐’น๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐“Ž ๐’ท๐“Š๐’พ๐“๐’น๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”. ๐ป๐’พ๐‘”๐’ฝ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’ท๐“‡๐‘œ๐“Š๐‘”๐’ฝ๐“‰ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐’พ๐“‰ ๐’น๐‘œ๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“Œ.}{ ...๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐‘’๐‘’๐“ ๐’น๐‘œ๐“Š๐’ท๐“๐‘’ ๐’น๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“๐“ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’ป๐’พ๐“‰๐“‰๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐“Ž ๐’ถ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘’๐’น๐’พ๐‘’๐“‹๐’ถ๐“ ๐’น๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’พ๐‘”๐“ƒ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’. ๐ผ ๐’น๐‘œ๐“ƒ'๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‰๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“…๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘’๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‚. ๐’ซ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰๐’พ๐’ถ๐“๐“๐“Ž ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ป๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ, ๐“…๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰๐’พ๐’ถ๐“๐“๐“Ž ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰๐’ท๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“€ ๐“๐‘’๐’ป๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“€๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐“๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‹๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”. ๐’ฒ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐“๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’ ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“, ๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐ผ ๐’ฟ๐“Š๐“ˆ๐“‰ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐‘’๐“๐“…๐‘’๐“‡๐’พ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰๐“ˆ?}{ ...๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐“๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐“‚๐‘’, ๐’ท๐“Š๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‰๐‘’๐“‚๐“…๐“๐‘’... ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‰๐‘’๐“‚๐“…๐“๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“‚. ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฉ๐’ถ๐“‡๐’ธ๐’พ๐“ˆ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐“ˆ ๐“ˆ๐“…๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐’น๐’ถ๐“Ž๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐“‡๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“Š๐“‡๐“‡๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น๐‘’๐’น ๐’ท๐“Ž ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“ˆ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‡๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐’ธ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐“…๐“๐’พ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“๐‘’ ๐ผ ๐“ˆ๐“…๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ถ๐’ป๐“‰๐‘’๐“‡๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“ˆ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‹๐’พ๐‘œ๐“๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐‘”๐’ถ๐“‡๐’น๐‘’๐“ƒ. ๐’ฒ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐’น ๐“ƒ๐‘œ ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“‡๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“…๐“…๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ; ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“๐“Ž ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡. ๐ป๐‘’ ๐“‰๐“‡๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐“๐’พ๐“€๐‘’ ๐’ซ๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ๐‘’๐“…๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘’, ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“๐“Ž ๐“‹๐’พ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“‰๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐‘’๐’น. ...๐’ข๐‘œ๐’น๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“‡๐‘’ ๐“…๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰๐’พ๐’ธ๐“Š๐“๐’ถ๐“‡๐“๐“Ž ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐“…๐“๐’พ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐“๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ.}{"๐‘€๐‘’๐‘’๐“‰ ๐“‚๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐’ถ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น๐“‡๐’ถ๐“ ๐“‡๐“Š๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“‚ ๐“ƒ๐‘œ๐“Œ. ๐’ฒ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐“Œ ๐’น๐“‡๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐ผ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Š๐‘”๐’ฝ๐“‰ ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ท๐“‡๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐’ฎ๐“‰๐“‡๐’ถ๐’น๐’พ๐“‹๐’ถ๐“‡๐’พ๐“Š๐“ˆ." ๐’ฏ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“๐“ ๐“ˆ๐’ธ๐“‡๐‘œ๐“๐“ ๐“ˆ๐“‚๐‘’๐“๐“๐‘’๐’น ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น ๐“ˆ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“€๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’น๐“‡๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“ƒ'๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’พ๐‘’๐’น ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐’ถ ๐“‡๐’พ๐’ท๐’ท๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐’ถ๐’น๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐’ป ๐’ท๐“๐’ถ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“๐“€... ...๐ผ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“๐’น ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐“‡๐‘”๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’พ๐“ƒ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐ผ ๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‡๐’พ๐“‹๐‘’๐’น. ๐ผ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ถ ๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐“…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“‰๐’พ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐“๐“Ž ๐‘’๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“…๐“๐’ถ๐“Ž๐‘’๐’น ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“ƒ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡...}{ “๐ป๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‹๐“Ž ๐’พ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ธ๐“‡๐‘œ๐“Œ๐“ƒ”- ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“ˆ๐’ถ๐“Ž๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐‘”๐‘œ๐‘’๐“ˆ. ๐’œ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐‘œ๐’ฝ, ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Œ ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‹๐“Ž ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐’น ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ท๐‘’๐’ธ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’. ๐ผ๐“‰ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“๐‘œ๐“Œ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐’พ๐’ธ๐’ฝ ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐’ถ๐“๐“๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐’น๐‘’๐’ธ๐’ถ๐’น๐‘’๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘œ. ๐ผ'๐’น ๐“…๐’พ๐’ธ๐“€ ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“Š๐“… ๐‘œ๐’ป๐’ป ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐’ป๐“๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“‡ ๐’พ๐’ป ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น๐“ˆ ๐“Œ๐‘’๐“‡๐‘’๐“ƒ'๐“‰ ๐“ˆ๐‘œ ๐’ป๐“Š๐“๐“- ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“๐’น๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“…๐‘’๐‘œ๐“…๐“๐‘’ ๐“Š๐“…. ๐ผ ๐’ป๐‘’๐‘’๐“ ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐’พ๐’ป ๐ผ ๐’ป๐“๐‘œ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐’ป๐‘œ๐“‡๐“‚- ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“ˆ๐“€ ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐‘œ๐“‹๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“…๐‘’๐“๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“ˆ ๐’ธ๐“๐‘œ๐“Š๐’น ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐’พ๐“‰'๐“ˆ ๐‘’๐“‰๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐’น ๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“ˆ๐“‚๐’พ๐“๐‘’.}{๐ผ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐Ÿฃ๐Ÿฅ ๐“Ž๐‘’๐’ถ๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐‘œ๐“๐’น ๐“Œ๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“…๐‘œ๐“Œ๐‘’๐“‡๐“ˆ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“‡๐“‰๐‘’๐’น ๐“‚๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’พ๐’ป๐‘’๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”. ๐ผ๐“‰ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐“ˆ ๐‘€๐’ถ๐“Ž, ๐Ÿฃ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿฆ๐Ÿง. ๐‘€๐“Ž ๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐ผ ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“‰ ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ ๐’ถ๐“‡๐‘”๐“Š๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐’ถ๐’ท๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‰ ๐“‚๐“Ž ๐“‡๐‘’๐’ป๐“Š๐“ˆ๐’ถ๐“ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“ˆ๐“‰๐’ถ๐“Ž ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‹๐’พ๐“๐“๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘œ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ, ๐’ธ๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‹๐‘’๐“ƒ๐“‰๐“Š๐“‡๐‘’ ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“Œ๐‘œ๐‘œ๐’น๐“ˆ ๐’ถ๐“๐‘œ๐“ƒ๐‘” ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐“‚๐‘’๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐’ฝ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐“‰. ๐ผ ๐’ท๐“Š๐“‡๐“ƒ๐“‰ ๐‘œ๐“Š๐“‡ ๐“Œ๐’ถ๐‘”๐‘œ๐“ƒ ๐“‰๐‘œ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘”๐“‡๐‘œ๐“Š๐“ƒ๐’น ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐“‰ ๐’น๐’ถ๐“Ž... ๐“Œ๐’พ๐“‰๐’ฝ ๐’ถ ๐“ˆ๐’พ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐‘”๐“‡๐“Ž ๐’ธ๐“‡๐“Ž.}

๐‘…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘…๐‘’๐’น

02/29/2024 11:22 PM 

'Singing Days'

The sound of shuffling papers followed by a loud crash alerted Don's gaze towards the study where his mistress was currently trying to catch up with her paperwork. His long legs swiftly carried him down the corridor of the east wing of the castle until he came to the open doorway beyond which was a mess of scattered papers, an overturned desk, and one very flustered Crimson Queen. "These foolish requests keep pouring in! I've done everything for these people. EVERYTHING! And they're NEVER satisfied. They're petitioning for things now; forming comities and voting. This isn't a democracy, I'm their QUEEN." With balled fists she rose from her mahogany chair and stormed across the scarlet carpet. Without making eye contact with her advisor as she left she bluntly demanded "Clean this up," before slowly walking down the East wing towards the grand staircase and out of the Golden Tower.The atmosphere outside was much less oppressing and highly welcomed. Her concerns weren't on the city streets beyond the castle gates, but on the lush and colorful garden where she often found solace. She didn't know why she kept lingering here in this kingdom that was dropped in her lap. Was it out of a sense of duty, or was this her way of settling into an eternity of dissatisfaction? There were no more happy memories here, not after being set up on her throne and knocked off of it over and over again by those who promised her a bright and fruitful future ruling together instead of on her lonesome.After wandering amongst the petals she made her way over to the koi pond where her beloved Stradivarius violin waited for her on her favorite marble bench. Picking up her instrument and folding herself onto her seat, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her red dress and set herself up to begin to play. It was a welcome distraction, and a helpful means of expression whenever she felt the swell of emotion. By now her tears had ran dry and this was how she cried. The song she sang was a sad ballad, one telling the tale of a queen abandoned by three kings after they each, in turn, used her for power and not for love. She had painted this song, written this song, lived it, drempt it. Destined to live for eternity, her ghosts from her past haunted her unendingly.Her song spilled out from the gardens and into the city streets. This was something her people had become so accustomed to that they reacted to it in the same one would if there were an occasional rainfall. Chatter in the marketplace detailed that it was one of the queen's 'singing days'. If questioned about it there'd be brief mention that the climate controlling dome that enclosed the desert kingdom would continue to project sunlight all throughout the night on days like this.

๐‘…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘…๐‘’๐’น

02/29/2024 11:22 PM 

Art Of The Planes

"We're honored to have you, Miss Bohemian. Truly." With her hands clasped beneath her chin as if in prayer, the independently owned gallery's curator gushed gleefully over the featured artist who's works hung proudly that night on white painted walls. There were a number of other more well known venues in the city that could have landed a showing of the highly exclusive painter, and the fact that her pieces ended up on display in a hole in the wall instead of a museum was practically unprecedented. The artist, a bright splash of red amongst the rest of the attendees did her best to put on a pleasant smile despite her discomfort. "The honor's all mine, Malory." Her words, a velvety swirl of French and British accents slipped from between her scarlet painted lips as she plucked up a wine filled plastic cup from the refreshment table beside them. Keeping up appearances was a tedious endeavor, but it was necessary. How else was she supposed to blend in with humankind? Customer service and clerical jobs were out of the question for a woman of such little patience as herself. "Will you be staying in Boston for long? There's this amazing chowder restaurant in Quincy. It got the attention of The Food Network last week! It's this little family owned place that really impresses." Arching a brow and lifting her plastic cup to her lips, the taller of the two women feigned interest towards the recommendation. Her attention was torn between the chatty curator and the rest of the crowd who stalked from painting to painting, ooing and ahhing at the expertly detailed depictions of fantastical landscapes that were too grand to be real. Tall golden spires towering over a bustling marketplace filled with wooden stalls, a mystical forest speckled with colorful mushrooms of unnatural colors, a garden rife with a rainbow of various and unknown species of flowers, a dark rolling sea speckled with broken planks and cherry blossom petals- all hung proudly in their golden frames. A secret unbeknownst to all was that these locations were all as real as the world around them; though they'd never lay eyes on these sights aside from seeing them in brushstrokes.As her gaze wandered she assessed the crowd. She was a bit overdressed for the occasion, though that was commonplace for her. Her formfitting crimson evening gown and matching red heels would have been more appropriate for a gala. Fans who stopped by to greet her at least weren't surprised since her self portrait piece featured a dress similar to the one she chose to wear. Paired with her copper locks and red lips and nails she looked like a brilliant flame. Her eyes would have complimented the rest of her get up if she wasn't glamored. Natural crimson hues were hidden away by magic, making them appear emerald green. Her fangs and her snowy white skin were masked as well, making it easier for her to pass as human. Another secret was that she once was, though not for a very, very long time.        

๐‘…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘…๐‘’๐’น

02/29/2024 11:22 PM 

Sleeping Beauty

A subtle frown graced half painted crimson lips as matching hues wandered from pale reflection to wilted petals. There was no need to replace the aged bouquet since there'd be no more flowers for quite some time. And there'd be no more sunshine, or moon light either. There wouldn't be much of anything in fact, which was fitting since there seemed to be nothing left for the fallen queen. There was no great impact, not one single great change or advancement that she was able to call her own after centuries of walking the realms. Her family was long dead and gone, she had no sired children, and her former loves were all long lost.For countless long and grueling years she tried to acclimate to the times. Heartbreak drove her out of the magical realm back to the mortal land of her birth only to land her into a concrete, unwelcoming and foreign world. With no one to guide her she was just a strange piece of antiquity; an old statue or painting found in the back of a museum. Her own paintings were the only thing that allowed her to get by, her collection of golden framed portraits and landscapes now sealed away in crates that littered the room along with her other belongings.Everything from her furniture to her wardrobe were all sealed away and protected by magic so they'd survive whatever span of time that might pass until she'd rise once more. Over the course of a month she slowly moved what mattered most to her into the crypt she built for herself beneath an abandoned mill. She decorated the chamber to resemble her castle bedroom from her time in the Crimson Kingdom. The stone walls she painted with frescos of poignant moments from her life, mirroring what one of her former kings did within his temple with mosaic tiles. Even if she wasn't intending to stay within the crypt once she woke, she thought it was a poetic and cathartic gesture.Once her makeup was complete she made a few passes through her hair with her soft bristled golden brush and moved away from her mahogany vanity table to pick through her wardrobe. Each piece was the same color (a strange habit she kept up for far too long). Scarlet was her mother's favorite and Rose made it her own in her mother's memory. After some contemplation she chose a 1940's styled evening gown and slipped it on over her black lace underclothes. The effort it took just to get herself dressed and ready was almost excruciating since she was blood starved from her fasting to prepare for this day.When she was finally ready she laid herself down on her red silk sheets. Unlike the rest of her kin who were sealed away within macabre coffins, she chose to take a more unique route. And with magic at her disposal she was able to get away without having to worry about rot and decay eating away at her display. As for herself, there wasn't a concern in her mind. The crypt could collapse around her and she'd remain intact. Such was one of the many gifts of unlife.And so, sleeping beauty closed her eyes and let darkness take her. It only took minutes for the hunger to whisk her away into a deep, dreamless state of stasis. Her biggest hope was to awaken some time in the very distant future when she assumed nature would reclaim the land. Her chamber being disturbed wasn't even on her mind. Who would bother to go digging around beneath an old, abandoned mill?

๐‘…๐‘œ๐“ˆ๐’ถ ๐“‰๐’ฝ๐‘’ ๐‘…๐‘’๐’น

02/29/2024 11:20 PM 

Inventory Day

"Ugh, Rosa, what time is it?" "If you're so inclined to know, go outside and look at your shadow.""Ugggahh." Thump. Pushing himself off of his perch on top of the wooden counter, the young raven haired male with feline-like ears stomped his way through the old potions shop with fists buried deep in his dark denim pockets. "I hate inventory day," he groaned in defiance. His mistress silently ignored his whining and dismissively waved him away with a few flicks of her pale wrist. Not once did she look up from the clipboard she held in her hands as she made her way from shelf to shelf, making marks on a piece of parchment with a golden quill while counting through rows and rows of colored bottles and scrolls.  *Thunk*. The teenaged cat-boy's forehead gently made contact with the window on the shop's door. Behind him a wooden crate filled with scrolls flew off of the top of one of the bookshelves and set itself beside the fiery haired shopkeeper who began counting out loud as she scanned it's contents. Placing one hand on the knob, the feline teen freed himself from his daily duties and the chime of the silver shop bell was met with a sigh of relief exhaled from between the scarlet painted lips of the shopkeeper. After meandering into the middle of the sandstone bricked street yellow eyes and slitted pupils peered up at the sky and then down to the ground. Now that the kingdom's ruler allowed time to pass, the once everlasting midday sun was no longer directly overhead. With some careful consideration the lad figured it was now three hours past noon, which was still strange to him since not more than a month ago it was always noon. And stranger still was the eventual night that would blanket the isolated kingdom in a twilight state that it's queen spoke so poorly of. "A miserable darkness," she once called it. Nowadays she tolerated it. After all, the decision to bring night was made by her people and not by her. Democracy was another new feature along with a proper day and night cycle. Deciding not to return to the shop, the lad instead turned to face the East where the street led to the bustling hum of the marketplace. Kicking a small oval stone with the tip of his high top Converses as he trudged, he gradually made his way towards one of the many stalls. This particular one was run by a stout dwarven woman selling the local paper. "What's today's headline, Midge?" "Ah, young Master Waffles. 'Aven't seen ya in a few days now. 'ow's tha queen? Been takin' good care of her, lad?" Lifting up one of the papers so he could inspect it, he mumbled, "Yep, Midge, been taking real good care of her." The top headline made him want to yawn. 'Loui's chickens flew the coop.' Beneath the oversized blocky letters was a drawing of a man chasing after a few chickens who were a few yards ahead of him. "Nothing interesting happens here. Not since before the plague when all the Captains were still around.""Don't 'chya appreciate tha new changes at least? I 'aven't seen stars in over a decade since Baylin and I moved here."Returning the newspaper to the pile it came from, the boy shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets to fiddle with a few of the flat stones he liked to carry around, making them clack together. 

โ™” ัฯƒัƒฮฑโ„“ ะฒฮนั‚ยขะฝ โ™ก

02/29/2024 07:14 PM 

แดดแต‰แตƒสณแต— แถ แตƒโฑหกแต˜สณแต‰

Heart  Failure The new heart that Regina and her son had been trying to create for Graham had failed. To create a new heart was simply beyond both of their abilities and without a new heart Graham was at the mercy of fate. While he had returned to the land of the living his current heart was weak, since it had been the cause of his death previously. While he had the best medical care that modern medicine could offer it wasn't enough. At any time his heart could fail and there would be nothing to save him from having a massive heart attack and dying again.He and Regina had received this news only a few hours ago. While it was discouraging for Graham he didn't seem to be outwardly upset about it, not like Regina. At home together they sat in the living room on the sofa. Graham was reading while Regina sat silently or at least she attempted to. Occasionally she couldn't help a soft sniffle and a quick wipe beneath her eyes. It didn't take Graham long to notice.Turning his head to look at her he did just that, staring at her for a few moments before he finally spoke. "What's wrong?" He asked. Regina turned her head to look at him for a moment before scoffing softly and turning her head away, again wiping a few tears. "You're going to die.. and I can't stop it." She said quietly."Regina.." he began. "We're all gonna die one day.." he began before Regina cut him off quickly. "Right. Except your heart is going to fail you sooner or later and again you are going to.." tearing up more she frowned. "And it's my fault. It's all my fault." She said shaking her head."Regina I was given a chance to return. To make amends with you.. find my son... reunited with Henry and meet Adrian." He said moving to take her hands. "I was here to see the birth of our children. To know we finally had not one but two children. I've gotten to name them and know them. Even if I die tomorrow.. again... I have more than I could ever ask for. Shouldn't we make the most of whatever time we have?" He asked.Regina knew he was right, they shouldn't be worrying and she certainly shouldn't be grieving something that hadn't happened yet however, she couldn't help but worry, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Giving her hands a gentle squeeze Graham smiled, Regina returned his smile with a weak somewhat sad smile of her own. She knew they should make the most of whatever time they had. She just couldn't stand the idea of losing him again.   template credit.  

Ricky Beckett

02/29/2024 12:55 PM 


Rules:I am no fan of rules like most if not all of you but they are definitely needed. I hoped that I won't need those but given everything it seems like I need to have rules to be able to rp well and without trouble. Especially with the way some peopld seem to be acting around me, and the character I rp. It seems like the only way to be able to rp is with rules. Those rules must be followed no matter what. I don't care who you are, those rules are still important and needed. I hoped those were a common sense but it clearly doesn't seem so, unfortunately. So the rules are here to avoid those situations or any similiar situation. As I am here to rp not the crap people thing, that is for sure. So the rules are here to avoid that happening again.1.I am not the person in the photos. The guy is an actor naned James Marsden who is busy so he has no time to rp. And he is much older than the character a even older than he was when he played the character in the show. So am not the actor as the actor is busy to rp and the character I a fictional character he played in 1996 to 1997. Therefore I can't be him and am not. I am an rper only. I rp Ricky Beckett as he is one of my favorite characters and I use the actor who played him as am not interested in changing him for no one's entertainment. I rather rp him right than make him what he isn't. So yeah. So with that in mind don't assume I am him or fake rper as some seem as that isn't true and never will be. I am an rper and am here to get away from real life, as most of you if not all of you. So keep that in mind and we would get along well.2.Ricky Beckett is from Second Noah a tv show from 1996 to 1997. No not mockery or stuff like that but a real tv show. You can even watch it on youtube or some of it at least.  I am not changing him to like made up or anything like it, as I am not the one who created him but show creators did. He isn't stollen from another rpers creation but he is from a show as mentioned above. The bio is by the show. I am not changing it or renaming him nor changing his age. So don't assume it is stollen from rper or you and force me to change the whole character as it doesn't happen. This character is from the show and there is proof. Just check :"Ricky Beckett from Second Noah" and you find him.  Also don't ask me to use the actual face claim for him that played as I am using the actor who actually played him and that same search will prove it. So please no attacking me due to that. So keep that in mind and things be fine but if you attack me for that then you are blocked. No questions asked.3.Ricky is part of music theme/genre because he is a musician and the show makes a point to show that a lot. And no the actor isn't lip singing and fake guitar  player or such as some of you no doubt are about to ask. The guitar playing is James Marsden himself as he knows how to play a guitar. And yeah singing is really him too. With that in mind, that is how I rp him so no judgingp or forcing to change or change it and admit that it isn't the actor nor that there us no music there as sm not admitting to any of ut as there us music and guiter playing as well as singing is in fact James Marsden. Anyway, with that in mind singers and musicians are welcome on my page but only for rping and nothing else; just like with everyone else. Now of those would change and neither of those would change.4.Ricky is with Darby at that moment but am not sure if they would stay together or not, it depends on the rper of Darby. Once someone takes her. With that in mind I haven't put if they stay together or not. Not yet. Not until I know for sure of they are staying together or not. I do like them together but if they don't stay together it is fine,  he will get with someone else but it would take some time so to develop but at the moment I need someone to take to know for sure. However, Darby like all other role is permenant not temporar. So no taking her and deleting or blocking me just so no one will take her or such as she is needed no matter what. I need her and other roles taken for a long time. With that in mind don't assume you are requested or your request is accepted for romance or sex or such as that would never happen, no matter what. He isn't going to sleep with everyone he sees or such as it isn't him and never will be. Ricky isn't going to sleep with anyone for a long time. Whether you get pissed at that or not it won't change that. Also am not here for sex or erotica so no smut or such but to rp. Also he won't  cheat so don't even go that. Don't even bother to request or accept friend request for sex rp, as that will not happen and you would be blocked pretty fast for even trying that at all. I rp him how he is not how people on here wants him to be rped. That is jus how it is. Whether you like that or not doesn't matter at all.5.Yes, Ricky is 17 years old and is a dad to a 3 years old boy, who is also his adopted brother. It wasn't what he had in mind but that happened. Ricky dated a girl he liked and things happened. However, since then he does try to be as careful as possible so that it doesn't happen again. With that in mind don't judge or assume that am here to rp sex or erotica, that I am a smut rper as am not. I am not interested in smut rp at all. I mentioned that in rules just to make things clear. This doesn't mean am here for smut just it is part of Ricky's backstory, background, history and nothing more. So keep that in mind and enough judging me or the character. Also don't ask to erase tjat part and actually rp him as he is as I am doing that. It is how it is in the show and how it is in rp. In the show the kid is his adopted brother and his son, so in rp it is the same. The two are close in the show and here too. So please respect that and don't assume things. This is very important information and rule, as some already judge me for it and assume things, and this rule is here to put a stop to that once and for all.6.Ricky is a musician, so a struggling one at the moment but still. With that in mind it isn't a way to get him to have hook ups or crap but it is the way he is in the show and how I rp him. So please no judging or assuming things. His band members are good but  they have some work  to do, yet when he plays a guitar and sings he shines, which is how it is in the show and how I rp him. With that in mind don't judge me for rping him that way or assume things. It doesn't mean I rp made up who is part of fame genere or such but a character from the show. Also it isn't mocking but how he is so please respect that. With that in mind the rule connected to the others by the fact that I am here to rp a character as he is and not away to have him sleep around or such as he doesn't do that and never will. Also that means that I rp him more canon than au. So please don't assume things or attack me over crap that will never happen and that I am not here to do. Also with that in mind don't force me to have him sleep with your character as it won't happen, and don't use the word musician as if I made it up as a sign that I want smut as it isn't true and that will get you blocked fast.  So follow those rules and we will get a long fine. Also even if your character is a teen with a kid and is a musician, who was adopted with their child by the same people or not, too, good for you but don't assume and attack me for stealing part of your storyline for my made up character as it is a lie. Ricky Beckett is a father and his son was adopted by the same people that adopted him in order not to seperate them. That is canon as Ricky Beckett is a canoj in a real show, called Second Noah from 1996 to 1997. You can check it online and you will see that it is the truth. So no need causing issues because of any of those.7.I do multi para and up but will rp with others too. However, while will rp with those who do one liner, semi para or para that doesn't mean that it is all I do. So no judging me over that. The most I do is multi para and up. Yet if it is easier for the one I rp with to write less then with them it is less. That doesn't nean I am a one liner or semi para or para rper but just someone who cares. So keep that in mind. No judgement allowed.8.No godmodding. I rp my character and you yours, as that is  how rp works. No ifs or buts sbout it. Otherwise it's not really fun, so yeah. I am not moving your character so please don't move mine unless it is something minor and we both agreed on it or just don't do it at all. Not nagotiable.9.Don't talk to all but me as won't do it to you so don't do it to me. It is that simple. No one asks you to have sex just treat me as a person not a number. That shouldn't be hard. I am not here for friend collectors and numbers. I will alwaya talk to you so please do the same; that's not that hard to do. It us being fair and kind not manipulated or such, so keeo that in mind. Being kind doesn't hurt at all and feels nice so that is all I ask.10.Have fun as that is why we are all here for. I hope. No drama except in rp. Rp drama is fine but oooc drama isn't allowed at all.This is all for now. Would add more once I think of some and once they are needed. Please read, sign and follow those. Thank you. Mistakes I can forgive but if you break those delibrately and even none stop, that won't be forgotten, ever. 

๐“ขแด„แด€ส€สŸแด‡แด› ๐“ขสœแด€แด…แดแดก

02/28/2024 10:53 PM 

Senior Year Final Part - Drabble

The cool earth beneath her paws was the first thing Landyn focused on, the droplets of water trembled with each heavy breath that cascaded across the damp earth in front of her snout. Golden honey hues opened and slowly began to focus, her vision narrowing in on the trembling water droplets as one by one they hurdled toward the ground, to a human the sound would have been insignificant, ignored but Landyn couldn't help but wince as the echo of it rung back in her ears as if she were standing directly over it instead of a few feet in front of it. The pain had almost completely passed, but a bone-gnawing sense of soreness was felt all over. Muscles and ligaments that Landyn didn't even know she had, sent tiny bolts of electricity through her petite frame. What the hell was happening? Was it over? Had she survived the full moon?“Holy s h i t …” The sound of Derek’s surprised voice sent warning bells off in her head, why was he surprised? Of the entire Scooby Gang, he had been the one that was the most vocal about her surviving the change, so what had happened to prompt such a reaction? “Wait, Scott… doesn't she doesn't know..” Deaton said in a cautionary tone which only further piqued Landyn’s curiosity. Why the f u c k were they all freaking out? A soft whine escaped the ginger-colored wolf as she slowly moved to a sitting position, her paw brushing her snout as if she could wipe away the nightmare that had suddenly become her life. It was then that she focused and realized she wasn't human anymore… her hands were.. paws. Confusion swept across Landyn’s features as she frantically jumped to all fours and anxiously started to pace, her tail tucked between her legs as she shook her head from side to side momentarily unaware of the audience she had watching her. “Landyn..” It was Scott’s voice that broke through the panic as Landyn quit pacing mid-stride to meet the gaze of her Alpha, there was pity in his eyes, the way his face hung apologetically even though he hadn't spoken Landyn already knew he was going to try and start apologizing. She didn't want apologies, she didn't want words, she wanted her life back! "What the hell did you do to me?!" The snarl that ripped through Landyn's chest, forced her fur to stand on end. The rush of rage that quickly bubbled through the wolf's tiny frame was overwhelming. It was bad enough that she hadn't gotten a choice as to whether she received the '๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ' but now?.. ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ she felt like the ๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ that had attacked her. Scott immediately jumped back, putting space between him and Landyn; he didn't want to have to force her back unless he needed to, always believing that free will was the most important thing for any member of his pack."Landyn calm down” Deaton chimed in as Landyn snapped her teeth in his direction, the crack of her jaw smacking together echoing off the tree line as she bared her teeth at the group of men who had idiotically just sitting and watching her. “CALM DOWN?! I'M A MONSTER!” Landyn cried though her words fell on deaf ears, the sounds of her words merely howls and savage sounding barks that made each member of the group before her slightly cringe. “Maybe telling her to calm down isn't the best idea, who calms down when being told to calm down?” Derek said with a smirk as he looked toward Scott, who gave an eye roll as he took a cautionary step toward Landyn, who the moment she saw the movement crouched into a protective stance. “Landyn, listen to me… you are gonna be fine, we’re gonna figure this out” His crimson hues brightened forcing Landyn’s golden honeys to do the same. Her gaze shifted to the side, her head turning down in a sign of submission before she rested back against the damp grass she had just stood up from. There was no fighting the urge, much to her dismay, the moment his hues brightened the beta within had no choice but to submit to her basic instinct. “I'm sorry, I had no idea that when I bit you, this was how it would turn out but I promise you… I will teach you how to control it, but you have to trust me.” Scott said as he knelt letting his hues fade back to their normal color once he was at eye level with Landyn. The rage she had felt moments prior seemed to dissipate but she didn't want to feel calm, she wanted to feel the anger, she wanted to be mad she had a right to, but the moment Scott flashed those hues, any anger or aggression she had seemed like a feeling of the past. It seemed even her emotions weren't her own, and for someone who wasn't used to not being in control, the thought terrified her. “Uh Scott, the moon..” Derek said, tossing his jacket toward Scott so he could use it to cover Landyn. As if on instinct, Landyn turned her head up to look at the moon, the rising urge to let a howl escape itching at the back of her throat. Without warning, her head tilted back and she began to bay, the low but high-pitched whine of her howl sounded eerily enough like that of someone who had lost their love. But Landyn hadn't lost her love, instead, she lost something far greater, far more precious… her life as she knew it. The sound of her howl slowly gave way back to the soft cry of her human voice and where the petite ginger-colored wolf once rested was now the crimson-haired beauty of the youngest Martin. Scott quickly wrapped her in Derek’s jacket covering her up as the tears streamed down her face, broken sobs quietly slowed before Landyn brushed her hair from her face. Her chocolate hues looked up to meet Scott’s gaze as she felt that familiar anger boil once more “Trust is earned, not given… and if I wanted your help I would have asked for it!” She said before shrinking into the jacket until Deaton could collect the clothing she had torn off, or what was left of it anyway. “Just take me home, I don't want anything to do with your pack, or you, or the damn town,” Landyn said with a frustrated huff as she gracefully climbed to her feet without letting the jacket fall from her frame. She grabbed the clothing Deaton held out for her before stalking toward the car “Landy, don't … you need his help” Derek said sternly as he followed after Landyn to help her into the car. “No, I need people I can trust and right now, he’s not one of them” Her voice was flat, and though she hadn't meant to do it they were filled with the venom she had reserved for her sister. “You’re making a mistake..” Derek shook his head as he looked between Landyn and Scott “Then it's MY mistake to make suviche” She said with a smirk as his back turned toward her and the claw marks she had placed earlier were now in full view. The car ride home seemed to take forever, but Landyn was grateful for the silence, it gave her time to think, time to reflect, and time to plan her next moves.

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