As much as I want to be a wholly joyous about the fact that Henry Kissinger is finally fucking dead, as he deserves... There's a lot of me that can't help being upset with. With the fact that he lived to 100 years old. He got better medical care, better housing, and a better, more stable life for those 100 years than billions on this planet ever going to see and he did it specifically through exploitation, state sanctioned murder, and lies. He lived to 100 years comfortably on a legacy of violence that rarely threatened his personal comfort. I want to be joyous that he's finally dead, because the world IS better with him dead, but the reality is he won a long time ago.
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I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them
People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human
“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”
“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”
“Yeah!!”
“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”
“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“
“How illogical”
“That’s what I’m saying!!!”
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everything is about reaching the ending except for the ending which is about wanting to go back to the start
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*If you can't walk that far or the roads to the store aren't safe to walk just pretend you can and they are for the purposes of this poll.
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But my mysteries... I'll never have answered
I told you so.
I won't know if he thinks of me, too
This one was answered.
How about my other mysteries now?
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Danny: I was told to report to you
Alfred: Who told you that?
Danny: Didn't get his name, but it was a man with black hair, blue eyes, tall and sad?
Alfred: That's could be so many in this manor. Can you be more specific?
Danny: um, he was pretending to be stupid at last night gala?
Alfred: More specific
Danny: He yelled "Eat the rich" before nose diving into the glass tower.
Alfred: That's was Master Jason. Did he tell you why you needed to report to me?
Danny: He told me to give this to you when I found you *hands over folded paper*
Alfred reading: Dear Alfred, here is a boy who agreed to work part-time as a cook for the mannor while you recover from your broken arm and broken legs . Let me know if he becomes a problem. I'll kill him for you. Heart Jason
Danny: ....He was joking about the killing part right?
Alfred: No, he put a heart. He is rather serious.
Danny strain nervous smile: Oh
Alfred: Not that it matters. If you ARE a problem, I will put a bullet between your eyes before you can beg. Working legs or not. Now then, how about I show you the kitchen, yeah?
Danny: .....the pay is what again?
Alfred: Five hundred for each meal you prepare and an hourly salary of twenty-nine dollars for how long it takes you to cook.
Danny: Aight, I'm desperate enough. Lead the way sir.
Alfred studying him: You may survive the Waynes yet.
Danny: Wait. What does that mean?
Alfred: This way *rolling away in wheel chair*
Danny: SIR!? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?
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