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[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 8)

Masterpost

The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 

“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 

“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.

“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.

“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 

“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 

Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 

Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 

“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 

“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 

“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 

“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.

He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.

Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 

Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.

He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”

“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 

“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”

“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 

“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”

Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”

“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 

“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 

“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”

“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.

“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.

“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.

Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 

Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.

“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 

“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”

“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 

“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!

“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”

“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 

“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 

“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 

Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.

“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 

“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 

“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.

“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 

Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.

When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.

“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 

Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”

“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”

“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.

“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 

Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.

“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Next

[wenumsmol]

𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 (𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚) 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Overall Content Advisory: Fem Reader, Eventual Smut, Eventual Dark Content, Sukuna/Yuji Hybrid, Exterminator Sukuna (by day)/Rocker Ryo (by night), Reader Has Trauma, Mentions Of Being Abused (Reader), Graphic Everything (If you can't stomach content covering abuse, stalking and sexual assault this isn't a fic you want to read. I'm going all in), Bartender Reader, Reader has a kitty and a cat (lol). ~ I might have missed something but I'm sure I covered the triggering stuff. ~ WC: 4.1k words. Chapter Specific Content Advisory: Limerence, Male Masturbation, First person perspective. ~ A/N: The chapter titles sometimes have links to songs of the same name. If you want to listen while you read, it's an option. This one has two songs that both fit the vibe in different ways. ~ Minors do not interact with my works. Ageless blogs and underaged blogs will be blocked.

ᴛʜʀᴏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ

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ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 2: ℌ𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔑𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢//𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔗𝔬 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥.

𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 ℙ𝕆𝕍

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗, 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝚂𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎—𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙶𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚎𝚜, 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕-𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙾𝚕𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝙼𝚢 𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝. 𝙰 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚝-𝚜𝚘-𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚘𝚐 𝚙𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛. 𝙿𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚡𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙳𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. “𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚜.”

“𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚜? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝—”

“𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍. 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚒𝚐,” 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚡 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. “𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚄.𝚂. 𝚘𝚏 𝙰. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍?”

𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝. 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐….

𝙰𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚕𝚔, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑. 𝙸𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗, 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎, 𝙻/𝚗, 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗’. 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗’ 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙿𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍. 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗’ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙽𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍.

𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜? 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙽𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗’ 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍.

𝙸 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕, 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚛? 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢—𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚙. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎.

𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑. 𝚆𝚎 𝚠���𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚍. 𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚙𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

𝙱𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝟸𝟶, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔-𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚜. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠.

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗’ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚞𝚙. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚝. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚢𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝? 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝.

𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 ��� 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝙸 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝙸𝚏 𝙸'𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 - 𝚈/𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚢.

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 - 𝚗𝚘. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚋. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕.

“𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍,” 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚛𝚢, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕. 𝙰𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝙶𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢? 𝙱𝚒𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎.

𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚍? 𝙽𝚘, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘? 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎… 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎…

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢—𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕-𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝.

𝙰𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜—𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑���𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝙸 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜, 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗, 𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎? 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚋𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎? 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔—𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍.

𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕, 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚋 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕.

𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕, 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝. 𝙽𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚝, 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍… 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝙸? 𝙿𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙹𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’–

𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘, 𝚢𝚎𝚝…

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚍𝚘𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚈/𝚗, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙰𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢—𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔, 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎. 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖. 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙸 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝙸 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙸’𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘. 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝. 𝚄𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚎, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚝, 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝-𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 ‘𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢.’ 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎, 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗’.

𝙸 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢���𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎? 𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢—𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 ‘𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎’, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝. 𝙽𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝a 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚍 yourself, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎? 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏. 𝚆𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝—𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢—𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙸’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐—𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔? 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙽𝚘𝚠, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝—𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚑, 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛. 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚏𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚣𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚜.

𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚙, 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛. 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚜, 𝚏𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

𝙸 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎… 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜, 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝙾𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝙸’𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍-𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? 𝚆𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍? 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚎.

𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗' 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜, 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘? 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎.

𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚝𝚎, 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚌𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚠𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙. 𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚞𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜? 𝚃𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔? 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑, 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞—𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔, 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎.

𝙼𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚏𝚝, 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖, 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚡����𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚘 ��𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚢𝚎𝚝. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚢𝚎𝚝, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢–𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚙, 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎–𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙼𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢.

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚞𝚑 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢?” 𝙸 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢. 𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.

“𝙰𝚑… 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝,” 𝙸 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢, 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚍,’ 𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎.

“𝚂𝚑-𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.” 𝙼𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎–𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝–𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚝.

𝙸𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚠𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗. “𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔.” 𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚖𝚙 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗.. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙷𝚊𝚊… 𝙸 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙼𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕.

‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.’ “𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.” ‘𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢.’ “𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢,” 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.

𝙼𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚙, 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 – 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚞𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚜. 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚡 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑, 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎. 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝟷𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝, 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚙. 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗. “𝚃𝚜𝚔, 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.”

𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚜𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗-𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗…𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗’ 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏… 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚈/𝚗. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘, 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕦𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: here~

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𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @yuujispinkhair, @skunabby, @kickenkricken

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[okamiflare247]

Can anyone tell me why everyone seems to have this Sonic plushie but not the matching shadow one? Is he that rare or am I just crazy?

[socially-anxious-wizard]

Jealous? Wip.

[m0tiv8me]

Honestly…sometimes you post that random photo that you’re just kinda curious what other people think? This is one of those times.🤔

[wilberwrites]

I am making myself digestible, I am removing myself piece by piece,

I start with my eyes, i remove the spark, the fire and passion,

Then i move to the hair, i take away my expression, my creativity

Next to go is my smile, my teeth and my tounge, along with them goes my cheek and my wit,

I am trying to make myself easy to like, to be around,

I take away my heart, my soul and my sadness,

Those get escorted out by my withering happiness,

I am making myself digestible,

I am making myself a good person.

[newwillinium]

The Great Khans and the Tribes of Zion/Honest Hearts

So I noticed this a few nights ago when I was trying to decide what route to go for my newest Fallout New Vegas character, and I noted something that I don't think many people have really ever clicked on.

-][-

The Great Khans, in Fallout New Vegas, are written as stand-ins for Native Americans.

Hear me out.

They are a people who have been pushed east out of their ancestral homelands time and time again, later finding a home for themselves in the Mojave. They warred with other native tribes, Mr House and what would become the Families, and then later were subject to a brutal attack on their civilians which led them to be stuck on land that was their own but was sparse in resources and are unable to meaningfully fight back against the rising Imperialistic powers of Mr House and the NCR (President Aaron Kimball later referencing and using the same "Sea to Shining Sea" rhetoric as the United States did during the Great Western Expansion, at Hoover Dam).

But what really clicked this for me was that, in the NCR ending where the Great Khans ally with the New California Republic, they are once more kicked off of their land and are sent off to a far off distant Reservation.

After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the Great Khans returned for a time to Red Rock Canyon. The NCR's pressing need to expand proved greater than its promise of amnesty, and before long the government decided the Khans had to go. The surviving Great Khans were relocated to an isolated, barren reservation, well north of NCR trade routes

Sounds really familiar right?

And looking at the Great Khans within this context, really reframes the context of their raiding and deep bitter anger that the Elder Khans like Papa Khan and Oscar have against the NCR.

Colonization is an ugly brutal thing, and it is also a complex one.

Like the Great Khans in New Vegas, many Native American tribes ending up raiding American citizens as a way to fight back, to strike against a rising imperialistic threat that was eager and willing to grind them against their heel, to kill their culture and bring all under the American Empire.

They fought, raided, begged, pleaded, sent letters to congress, lobbied Congress and the President and the Director of Indian Affairs, even as the infinitely more wealthy and powerful United States (even just off of the weary years of Civil War) did little to nothing to step the Westward push and actively allowed it's military to perform as it may on and off orders to get the natives off of land that had once been promised to them but was now deemed too valuable for a mere treaty to hold any sway.

And to bring this back to the actual conversation I want to have, is that I wanted to state this realization of mind in order to contrast it with another example from the exact same game.

The Dead Horses, Sorrows, and White-Legs of Honest Hearts.

Where as the Great Khans are treated with a kind of weary respect, of a people crushed beneath the wheels of a infinitely more powerful empire, struggling to find hope in a FUTURE for their people and culture, the Dead Horses and Sorrows and White-Legs are. . .honestly written with far less respect in my eyes.

The Sorrows are being actively converted by a White Savior in Daniel, who sees it as his burden to show these "innocent savages" the true faith and demands that they give up their home so that they are not "tainted" by the harshness of reality. Where they have no other visible leaders then this Foreign Priest calling their faith and interpretation of his teachings through their own cultural lens as wrong-headed.

Where Joshua Graham, the butcher who helped Caesar commit cultural genocide on dozens of tribes alone, is elected War Leader by the Dead Horses and in some endings becomes worshiped by them. Even he warns Follows-Chalk to stay in Zion lest he be corrupted by the dangers of the wider wasteland.

Now you sound like Joshua. He always tells me the tribal life is better, that I should stay here and forget the outside world.

And the White-Legs are treated as nothing but a people wholly existing of hate that deserve to be destroyed because they have been fooled by Ulysses and Caesar. Never humanized, never given a chance to learn the truth for themselves, they are written and treated almost like generic Orcs in many fantasy settings. No matter what this tribe and people are consigned to doom and slaughter.

-][-

And I say all this because I find it deeply weird how disparate these ideas and depictions are between the main game of New Vegas and it's Honest Hearts DLC.

Why are the Great Khans given so much dignity and pathos, when the Honest Hearts tribes feel almost like caricatures?

Why is Honest Hearts the way it is? And why is the writing so disparate between the two sections of the game?

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

[parasite-of-sentience]

Marley, of the Claw

My first draft at an npc profile for soulbound Ulfenkarn, formatted similarly to the existing npcs in the book! Marley is meant to be an additional hook and narrative for the van Altan Triplets and a Narrative Anchor for Lady Annika. as well as a potential friendly first hand account of the curse of vampirism.

my WIP versions of Marley and Lady Annika

Names: Magpie Marley, The Knight in Tarnished Brass, The Lion that hunts Wolves

Keywords: Outsider, Melancholy,

Pronouns: She/they Gender/Sexuality:

NB Femme / Asexual (Sex Averse)

Origin: Ghyran/ Greywater Fastness (Outsider)

Affiliations: Jade Lions Mercenary Company, (Former) Annika Gaunt(Former), Independent Renegade

Species: Vampire (Vyrkos Dynasty Bloodline/Unwilling) (Formerly Human)

CW Elements: Body horror, Betrayal/abandonment, Loss of self/corruption, abuse, Diaspora/Xenophobia

Inspirations: Kiryu (Yakuza), Guts(Berserk), Knights/Dancer of the Boreal Valley (Dark souls), Teppu

When thoughts return to the opulence of Mournhold, many think of Lady Annika Gaunt, Master of Ceremonies, flanked by outsider mercenaries in polished brass armor, and many dismissed them as shiny trinkets of the Lady. Those who had the honor to fight along side them knew them as the Jade Lions, mercenaries willing to throw themselves at the most rancid beast of Shyish, without complaint if not howls of elation. Howls that Marley, contentious even in their position of leadership, would never partake in.

Closest to Annika's side was Marley, Captain of the Claw, the postion inherited blade that seemed more at home in the hands of an ogor or a orruk. The tall taciturn form of Captain Marley, however demanded due respect to the wicked blade to even to the most cynical Mourner. Whispers of her low birth in the slums of Greywater Fastness, and Lady Annika's growing fondness for her were traded like knives in the parties and courts.

Werther thought a torn out throat, or Marley's absence from the now ascended Lady Annika's ranks, the rumors grew silent. Instead, Rumors abound of a warrior hunting the Vyrkos bloodborn as they torment the night. The Ulfenkarni don't know what to think yet of hearing the vampire that was cackling and hounding them moments before, plea and beg against the sounds of stone cracking butchery. Yet those lucky survivors whisper now of a greater predator stalking the streets. A Lion who hunts Wolves.

History

Born to the slums of Greywater Fastness, a young Marley was quickly put to work as a pickpocket. As she grew tall and strong of build, their same caretakers quickly put them to work as an enforcer and bouncer. They learned to load a pistol long before they knew how to read. Dismissed and shoehorned as just muscle in the slums, it was an easy decision to join the Jade Lions as they passed through the city. Their history and reputation followed them however, among the initiates she found herself a pariah. Rarely partaking in more than necessary of the enchanted drink that embolden the spirit and body the company often relied on, and never staying long for the parties after a successful hunt or campaign.

The Jade Lions company was lead by a delegation of four captains, each an inheritor of a gifted artifact to the company. The Captain of the Claw, a person of similar kindred melancholy, themselves took Marley as apprentice. Many spoke their misgivings of her inheritance of the captaincy openly. While inheritors were selected based on temperament, many deemed Marley far too Laconic and estranged from company culture for the position. Regardless of any actions taken, her past reputation earned them the moniker of "Magpie Marley," to accompany "Marley the Claw"

Desiring to prove her worthiness of the position, Marley was the first to support the contract offered by Annika Gaunt; to serve as Auxiliary and Bodyguards within Mournhold. the inevitable Duel to break the tie vote was narrowly won, by a furious drive Marley would come to regret with all their heart. the Jade Lions soon found themselves as outsiders to one of the oldest standing cities in the realms; but this was not a feeling Marley was unused to.

The Tour would be as much Parade duty as it was fighting but the company, and Marley were more than happy to take out their frustrations out on the most hideous monster's Shyish had to offer. Mistrusted within the Jade Lions, Marley often found council with their employer Lady Annika; who wasn't shy about reciprocating the trust in gifts, attention, and thinly veiled request to accompany her to events as a "bodyguard." Their burgeoning relationship took a darker, possessive turn as Annika ingratiated herself to Radukar's Thirsting Court. As the coup neared, Lady Annika would rely on the Lions increasingly less. Marley would be stuck outside of soundproof doors, matching the hungry gaze of vampires with piercing glares as Annika made wicked, dark deals.

Newly embraced as a vampire on the eve of the coup, Annika offered the Jade Lions gladly as additional Tribute to the newborn Regime, with conditions. She would be allowed to "keep" Marley and a few choice members as her new personal court. Attacked on all sides, Marley watched her comrades torn to pieces, or dragged away one by one into the pitch black night, the air alight with screams throughout the entire city. seeing Annika among the bloodstained beasts, Marley's reason left them and she rushed to her side; only to find herself pinned under her, impaled through the stomach on the newly ensorcelled Blade Proboscan. Anguished pleas drowned in the sounds of carnage and howling, no one who would listen could stop Marley from Receiving the Blood Kiss from Annika. She doesn't remember making her escape; but as she regained awareness in a bloodstained alley, she found the tarnished mask of her fellow captain in her own rigor mortis death grip.

Status

Alone in a city mistrustful of strangers, much less vampires, Marley hides in the day. The artifact of the captain of the Mask has proven essential to their survival; a tool meant to conceal ones presence with life magic has allowed her to unintentionally shroud their own vampiric nature as well.

During the night a guilt ridden, vengeful Marley stalks the night hunting overconfident, overeager Vyrkos Bloodborn, seeking answers on Lady Annika's location. They've morbidly found the most success in interrogating their own former comrades, naturally the ones closes to Annika. Lady Annika herself is not bold enough to announce her failure to keep Marley to the Thirsting Court; and thus receive official support to hunt down Marley. This lack of awareness and attention has worked to Marley's benefit but Annika's personal count aren't above taking matters in their own hands on the traitor they never liked.

While Marley will never forcibly drain or attack the Ulfenkarni, their trauma driven focus, fear of being betrayed to her enemies, and fading sense of empathy keeps her from outright championing them. They will gladly turn their fury upon their vampiric attackers however, before leaving without a word.

Roleplaying as

Even before becoming a vampire, Marley was always a silent, honed tool of brutal violence. while never cruel or sadistic, Marley finds unsettling ease in killing. Despite this Marley maintains their lifelong focus to only match violence to the deserving; but in their current state its only a matter of time before one who's lived a life as a tool and weapon harms the innocent.

Marley speaks in quiet grunts and short matter of fact statements. When they choose to open up they will still rarely speak more than blunt cold humor. Rare moments of soft spoken compassion are offered to children especially if Marley is well fed; and harm directed at a child will face resistance from Marley regardless of hunger level

Questions about the Mask will often be ignored, and attempts to touch it will make her use force. In moments of privacy away from survivors but among the a party she trust Marley might take off the mask to reveal an exhausted face, looking at the mask and touching it tenderly in quiet introspection.

She reacts poorly to the moniker of Magpie, especially when it's used by The Jade Lions or Annika. Often becoming stiff and unresponsive. similarly, she will reacted with uncharacteristic defensiveness if accusations of theft are ever directed at her.

Their behavior will change depending on how often they have been feeding. Well fed, Marley will be more open to working with the party and actively protecting survivors; even making the occasional morbid joke. if Marley goes too long without feeding they grow restless, pacing and growling, often disappearing on their own. they begin snapping more at the party and survivors with cold jabs, eager to return to their hunt for lady Annika.

If a Party Member or NPC offers to feed Marley with their own blood they will accept quietly, with a thanks offered, but with a grateful gentleness. afterwards they will retreat to privacy to sulk, completely unresponsive unless in danger.

The only enemies Marley will feed on are other vampires and Beasts. she will drink greedily and deep in silence after a combat, before again retreating to privacy to sulk in silence. drinking from vampires will have Marley visible shivering, though not to any obvious or spoken discomfort.

The Claw is a large ornate curved blade with many hooked edges. the handle seems just a bit too large for a human, but Marley wields it with ease. it is a brutal tool of harm that reflects Marley's own self perception. Seemingly for that reason she often clutches it close to her chest or leans against it for support, putting it between herself and others.

In moments of Repose, Marley has taken to the Mourner hobby of scrimshaw, quietly shaping small tools and toys. the later often finds their way to the hands of local children, many of them refusing to snitch on who they received it from.

Mentions of Lady Annika are enough to drive her into a cold frenzy; demanding answers and easily threatening violence, especially against another vampire. if outright confronted with lady Annika, a well fed Marley will freeze and be unresponsive unless directed; a hungry Marley will aim immediately for the kill with bestial fervor.

In Combat

Combat Behavior as an NPC will change depending on Blood Hunger Level:

When well fed Marley will delegate to the party, but other wise will focus on maintain defensive position around the most vulnerable elements present. well fed Marley will not feed on enemies and will not benefit from the hunger in combat, a child being in danger will always have Marley guarding them regardless of hunger level or party wishes.

When hungry Marley will focus down the most Dangerous enemy present. Marley will only feed on vampires and beasts and only benefit from the hunger in that way.

CW Elements

Body Horror

Marley's body is no longer just hers and she shares it with a ravening beast eager to make it its own. if Marley goes too long without feeding, or in moments of particularly high distress, she will begin temporarily or permanently transforming into more bestial forms. her hands are already forming claws under that scrape and chafe under her gauntlets. permanent changes are left to narrative weight over an actual encounter. if say Marley defeats the rest of the turned jade lions or Annika herself and underwent a dramatic transformation in the fight, making peace with that form is its own opportunity for roleplay. these elements along with corruption can let a party see and experience the pitfalls of the curse of vampirism indirectly

This element can be avoided with either non transformative super power changes or focusing on the mental distress and changes.

Betrayal/Abandonment The betrayal of Annika and the turning of the remaining Jade Lions has wounded Marley to her core. while it doesn't have to be explicit it can be heavily implied that Annika and Marley were romantically involved, even if their relationship was unhealthy and unbalanced. Marley will have difficulty putting full trust in anyone unless consistently fed and encouraged to assist survivors. If Marley is avoided or kept out of discussions she will respond in kind and make herself scarce, unwilling to open herself to be betrayed again. Marley takes personal responsibility to "free" the Jade Lions from their current vampirism, and if they provoke her she will silently focus all attention on destroying them.

This element can be avoided if you avoid direct ties to the Jade Lions or downplay the relationship with Annika.

Loss of Self/Corruption Vampirism drains the ability to care and empathize from even the kindest soul. While Marley Steadfastly will defend especially children, she is slow to offer succor or comfort. a high blood hunger Marley will often be stuck in deep silent melancholy, mourning feelings she can barely remember.

Members of the Jade lions will be quick to taunt how "Readily" Marley took to vampirism as one who was already so eager for bestial blood-drenched killing. Lady Annika herself will give cooing praise to her "Knight" for her capacity for violence, especially at high blood hunger.

Draining other Vampires to death will begin provoking the beast in Marley, each will satisfy her till after a downtime period but will increase her need for blood after the next downtime period. each one will start making Marley colder and less likely to assist survivors without direction.

This element can be avoided with focusing more on physicals changes.

Abuse The act of betraying and forcibly turning Marley can be easily potentially read as a possessive romantically abusive or even sexually abusive act. these elements can be and are encouraged to be downplayed or avoided in explicit terms as needed.

While their romantic feelings were reciprocated the implied relationship with Marley and Annika was one of possessiveness and power imbalance. Marley sought to please, and to keep in favor of the person who ultimately was her employer. Annika meanwhile failed to see Marley's individual personhood and will, long before the betrayal; assuming that she could make every decision for Marley and convince her to join the coup. When Marley becomes distressed at the Moniker of Magpie, Annika attempted to claim it as a pet name for her. This has only worsened her feelings on the moniker since.

Annika's infatuation with Marley is based in the misunderstanding of Marley's character, assuming that the mercenary killer to be Marley's nature as a beast and not her meeting the lifelong expectation that her strength is to be used for others. Where as Marley responded well to someone who was giving her positive attention, but failed to recognize the controlling alienating influence Annika had on her. Ultimately while the two could have strong feelings for each other, they are utterly alien to each other as people. a revelation Marley wished she could have made in time.

These elements can be avoided by not including or downplaying the relationship with Annika. their romantic relationship can also be framed instead as a tragic misunderstanding or star crossed circumstance

Diaspora/Xenophobia

Marley can be easily recognized as an outsider by Ulfenkarni for better or worse. she doesn't participate or is unfamiliar in greetings and customs. some will take that well and confide in her anticipating distance from the thirsting court. meanwhile, many others will shun and fear Marley for being another outside element, coming on the dawn of another outside element overthrowing their city. Marley on the outside takes it in stride and will give a wide berth to those who shun her; but the alienation and loneliness of being a stranger in this place weights on her.

Xenophobia can be a sensitive subject that if a group is not ready to address that as a topic, if so then approaching this subject should be avoided and made clear that it will not be a topic.

Progression

In the 1st Arc Marley can be encountered near the Spires and can be convinced to assist in taking down the Van Alten Triplets in an attempt to hunt down information on Lady Annika, but will likely not disclose this to the party.

In arc 2 Marley will be stalking near the Spires and will be hesitant to open up to a party she is not close to about Lady Annika but will be glad to help make any headway necessary. unless endeared to the survivors she is unlikely to spend much time lingering in haven.

either arc Marley can be potentially introduced offering to assist the part defeat a vyrkos bloodborn or vargheist in the area. Further adventures allowing getting closer to Marley can be helping hunt down other members of the Jade Lions for information in either arc

Potential bad ends for Marley can involve drinking too many other vampires to death and failing to fight her vampiric nature, potentially joining Annika truly as her Knight. if she fails avoid going hungry for too long and clashes with the party she might devolve into a Vargheist and need to be defeated. Keeping her low blood hunger isn't likely to increase her vampiric powers but could result in defensive/bodyguard buffs.

If Marley Defeats Annika and is at high blood hunger or high vampire corruption she might try to drink Annika to death which may result in transforming into a Vengorian lord like form as another boss immediately or later.

Inspirations

Marley as an OC draws heavily from Kiryu Kazama From the Yakuza/Like a Dragon Franchise. someone born out of time/place, who's personal code and leanings often are a mismatch for the era and place she lives in. As well as someone who believes that their strength warrants service, no matter how much of a burden it becomes. Marley is also a personal reflection of my experiences as Diaspora, so to me she is coded as East Asian/ Chinese.

This version of Marley draws heavily from Guts from Berserk as well with themes of unresolved trauma and abuse. The Elements of Abuse and corruption were inspired by Astarion from Baldurs gate 3. stylistically this version of Marley also draws heavily from the soulsborne franchise, especially the knights and dancer of the boreal valley. appearance wise I personally often imagine a similar Appearance and body type to Natsuo from Teppu.

[bengal-tigers-on-petunias]

I'm pretty sure that mostly all of us have seen the comparison between amethio and hunter; or posts regarding it at least and I theorize that since dot and amethio have never interacted ( or at least I don't think so ) I'm pretty sure that dot will help when amethio has a mental breakdown and offer him a spot on the RVTs or smth kinda like how gus helped hunter but thats just me

[drelizabethgreene]

Made my first contribution to the Buddie fandom on AO3! Went for a sickfic with a side of hurt/comfort. Your comments are appreciated!

[maddilynmuse]

Daytime post! ^w^

More of my ISAT brainrot. Major Spoilers. Read at own risk!

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

After a few chats with Isa, well… SURPRISE ODILE!

Odile talks with Siffrin about his roots over his tea. Or goes probably the best it can, actually.

[tyrhinosaurus]

That feeling when the urge to craft things is battling with the utter lack of free time

Anyway hopefully this weekend I'm gonna start felting things, any suggestions or ideas?

[mushroom-for-art]

Remembers this is an art blog and not just a pokemon blog let's goo lmao XD template made by the amazingly talented @blues-sues!!

[wilberwrites]

The boy, unlike the others,

Has a mechanical heart,

Made of gears and cogs,

Metal and copper,

Rather than flesh, and blood,

The boy, unlike the others,

His heart does not beat,

Rather it churns, and turns loudly and forever,

Where the others eyes spill watery tears,

His leak black oil,

The boy, unlike the others,

Clunks with every step, and moves like a puppet on strings,

Waiting for them to be cut,

His matchbox feet shuffle forward,

His bottle cap eyes remain unseeing,

And his mechanical heart clunks and thunks with every turn,.

[fairene]

question