"Oooh, claro. Claro." Sonríe. Llevándose la mano a lo que un dia será una americana, para pescar la libreta de cuero amarillo, tomando nota con un dedo que, de alguna forma, deja un rastro de tinta. Escribe al revés. Como si no encajara perfectamente con la realidad, cruzando las piernas con un~>

//HI WIFE

¿Así me llaman en Faerún? Ugh. Que asco de nomenclaturas. Me voy a peinar a doscientas ratas.

ɿobɒƹɒɔ ,oɘv ɘT

"Oh, si. ¿Porqué limitarse tanto? ¿Donde queda su ambición, Doctor, de ir mas allá?" Sonríe. Una sonrisa perfectamente blanca, como la dentadura de una muñeca. Ojos vidriosos reflejan el rostro del Nigromante.

Niños y familias. Hm~. Algo rebajado para mi gusto. ¿Donde está el reto?

❖ 𝑬𝒍 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒂 𝑪𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂: 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝑪𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒂 ❖ [ Relato. ] docs.google.com/document/d/1...

"¿Y eso?" El aparente jóven, de vestido moderno en negro con detalles amarillos, estira la mano, "sacando" de la oreja del doctor una sombrilla, abierta de par en par a su hombro. Su voz, no se corresponde a la de un muchacho. Hosca, aguda. Algo irritante de escuchar.

Una sombrilla, melón. ¿Usted moreno, se pone azul oscuro o morado?

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𓇻 ⸻⸻ 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ; ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 . ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒅 . ㅤ

//Yo tengo a este cabrón al que le gusta liarla y puede estar literalmente en dos sitios a la vez hacemos networkin-

//bwah, solo son los nacionales-

❝𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆! 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. 𝑴𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒏, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 soᥣᥙtιoᥒ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 Mᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs!❞ ⤿Advᥱᥒtᥙrᥱr, Moᥒstᥱr Hᥙᥒtᥱr. ⤿Mᥲιᥒᥣყ FᥲᥒtᥲsყRP. ⤿RT?

ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜʀɪᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ꜱɪɴɢ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɓuı⋊ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇ ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ɪɴ ᴅɪᴍ ɐsoɔɹɐƆ.

"Indeed. And still it is odd, isn't it?" The two cards fly into her hands. The two kings. And the seat before her lies empty. "How you miss the forest for the trees. Now, Larina. . . . 𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊.

"Again. It is not an opinion." His brow furrows. Jallo doesn't like to be second guessed.

He flips his hand. Two kings. One faceless. In yellow. One she knows. In a grim red helmet. "Why else would he protect you like such?"

"You ask me to give you what you have, and to tell you what you know. I feel a bit scammed myself." He grins, from ear to ear. Not in a negative manner though. The rats pick up the deck. Bringing it his way. To shuffle now. Only with his fingertips.

"That is not true. And you know it." He sends two cards. Face down. "Cruel men wander the highest spheres of the world. They eat and violate the littlest. With complete impunity behind the shield of the dollar." The King. The Eagle, bald, and rotten, strangling a mouse. "Beastly wolves ~>

"You simply already have someone who dearly loves you. Surely you don't take me for some two bit scammer trying to sell water to fish." He folds. Nothing interesting in his hand. Sometimes intervention is unneeded.

That is two supermen following me. If I had a nickle for every time I'd still be paid more than child workera.

((EVENT: DOOMSDAY)) ((11/24- Who knows?))

"And I don't speak of them." He nods. Tapping the table softly.

Be careful.

/ grell muse overload, i need to write.

A finger against her forehead. He pushes her back. Stay away. "Can it be called "power" if it is within my nature? Is a bird's power to fly, or man's to kill? No. No powers. Not in the sense you do."

"Not that either. I don't have a name, and I don't know what I am." He shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't. I can't. It was torn from me. You *are* loved. Dearly. Madly." He smiles. Sincerely. He's not made of stone.

Her own name. Full. Returned. His lips curl into a grin of white daggers. "Pointless to look for something I never had, Misa."

His glance raises from his hand. And a decision is made. "I cannot give you what you have. It is silly." The chips spill upon the center in a large blind, as a rat is gently squished.

Because I'm not. I never needed something as worthless as worship.

A lot of things. I am the best and worst of your kind. And I always seek amusement.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 '𝐂𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬

... Not really, but it's funny you went there.

"I'll hear it." He reaches over, cutting the deck before reshuffling it. Passing it to her for her to be the dealer.

I don't think we like the same ones.

No.

I think I can, actually.

Nothing.

"The rats are rats. They don't know prayer or temples. They follow me for the same reason they follow each other." He notes. Scritching one of the creatures, confusedly nuzzling his hand. "Their tiny brain cannot retain what they once were."

Makes sense.

You heard of Margaret Thatcher?

That's your opinion.

Why would I want yours though-

Body theft.

Bofff... stopped counting last enthropy.

No.