unbr8kable | just call, we're all connected

just call, we're all connected

[It is a long, long sail to Hachijojima, but at almost 300 kilometers south of the Imperial Palace, it's one of the most remote places within the city limits, making it perfect for both urban exploration and other dubiously wise pursuits. Surely anticipation and boredom from the trip is the only reason for the frisson of nervous energy Nemesis can't shake even after an afternoon on what even in Hell TV form are gorgeous black sand beaches and lush, tropical greenery that verges on overgrowing the buildings of the port town.

That said, soon enough it's time to get to business, and after a dinner of fresh-caught fish and fruit to supplement the food they'd brought along, Hurricane and Nemesis begin setting things up.

The hotel they'd scoped out for the ceremony (thanks Yahell! Maps) was run down and abandoned even by Tokyo-F standards, its bubble-chic French Baroque architecture salt stained and half covered in vines and ferns and established greenery. Its sprawling beach patio opens straight to the sand and beyond that the ocean, though the promenade of graceful statues are now crumbling, and rather than cafe tables or lounge chairs, only moss and bioluminescent mushrooms venture over the once ornately tiled floor.

There is still plenty of space for candles and salt and whatever else one might need to do with the space, and Nemesis dumps her bag of supplies right there on one of the benches carved into the railing; turns to Hurricane beside her.]

Ready to summon an elder god?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What? No. You ain't - no.

[He reaches out to take hold of her, to try and pull her back]

She ain't the sacrifice, we'll - we'll get you more fish or something. A goat. We can do that one scene from that one dinosaur movie, you'll get plenty of blood.

[ It is spoken, and the thing—the demon?—does not wait for another answer. The whisper (and it is somehow, still, a whisper) reaches the volume of a roar. ]

To d͘evo҉ur a̕n͢d͡ ȩx͏p̧and̛ing ̛g̵enom͜e͝ –̕ ͝the͜ ͞s̵tra̸n̷gl҉i̕ǹg͟ ҉f͞r͝u̢ìt͜—́aǹd͜ ̷t͏h͜é ̸wo̢rld ͏wįt̨h́ ͞th͟e̢ ҉powęr͏ o҉f t̕h҉èi͞r ͝b͠ody ̡and ͏t͞urne̢d ҉v͢in͠e͏ ri͝vulet̷,͜ ͞s͘u҉r̢vivȩd̵
͝ ̷ ̷ ̶ ̷ ̢ ̀ ̴of͡ ͜re̡s̸t͟les̸s; i̶ ͢c̵on̶fe͢s͢s, i͢ t͡o̕o ha͘ve͠ bee͞n. ́In̛ the b͡l͏ís͏s͢ of not-know̴in̛g.͘ An̴d th͝én ̵t͡hèŗe̛ ҉i̷s n̵o ͢sįn̴ i̛n͟ ͢s̢h҉a̶d̵o͏w o̷r̕ in t͟he̸ ͞śi̵n͡ner͟ ̀s͡h́àĺl r̵ęjo͡i̶ce͜, ́for̶ t͠he͡r͞e͘ ̕s̢h͝al͘l̴ ac̀q̸ui҉r̨e every ̛ĺi̴fe i̴s̴ ͠a qui͠et͠
k͞in̸d ͞o͜f dying ̡i͠n̴ ̵t̕he p͢lant͝ing ̨in al̵way͏s wai̴t̶i̧ng
͏ ̨ ͢ ́ ̶ ҉ ͝ ̢ ͏ ́ ͞ s̴k̸in̸;̢ ҉what̵ ͜pa͞rt̵s ͠óf ́us ͠w̸er͜ę ̀b̡orn ̵i̴n̕t̸o͢ a ͡h͞ist̡ory ǫf̀ s̢elf̶ ̛is ͏a̛ ̷s͞uìc͠id̨e
̵ ̢ ͏ ͢ ͢ ̸ ̧ ̵ ̶ ҉ ͝ ͝ her͝e͝, ̢ev́e̴ry áir, ̵w͡e͏ari̴n͝g͘ w̕ings͟ ͏o̶f the̛ eąrt̨h, I am̛ rot҉ted̕ ̷o͟u͏t by ͘bee͝s. ̴T̸he̶y ar͡e͝ c̵hai͟n̢e͠d̶ u̸p
̷& ̶na̸rr͟ow̧ęd̷ ́down,҉ ͢viśi̕on̵ ҉fill̡ed w͠ith̶ a͢ ̀st͞r̢a̵įǵh͘t hor̶i͢z͝on

a̢n̕d̛ the f̸ear̷

[ The growth—if you can call it that—around the altar goes wild, fungus and meat piling on top of itself, blooming into pustules or sloughing away to reveal what looks almost like bone.

It is gathering itself.
It is becoming. So is its retinue, which swarms, ratlike, over the ruined terrace.

Already, some are reaching the sea, spreading over the waves like an oilslick. ]

i ̕c҉o͟n̕fes̷ş,̶ i too ͜have seen҉ t̀he ̵ja͟ẃbone ̀e̕ru͡pt i͘n̕t͠o ̀a͘mbr͜os̸i̷a͜
̷ ̷ ͡ ͠ ͘ ̡ ͘yǫu ̴h͟avę ͢s̷een͝ ͟the̛ r͞íb͠ćagé tu̶r̢ne̴d ̶v͝i͜ne̵ r̴i̸vule͜t, ͟s̵ur҉viv̨ed̵
́ d͡és͏tinieś ̧a̴r̢e ̸wr̡i͠t͠ten̨ i͠n ̴the̶ ̀ga͏rden̴
̸i̢n̡ wh҉įc҉h̀ de͠a̷th̀ s͡hąll ͢c҉o̸me ri̶pe ̛and̨ a ͞m̶e̢r̨cy.͟

[ The rot around you is still swelling—halfway up your calves; writing words on stone for only a moment before the mold is too dense to read. ]

[She opens her mouth then closes it, not to avoid the smell or to keep from inhaling anything (a pretty silly action now), but what is there to say against it--against them? The mold and rot crawls up higher, and still she forces herself still, even though she is still far closer to where the ???demon??? is manifesting itself than she would like.

Another stolen glance at Hurricane (and she tries very hard to keep her expression blank but her shoulders are far too stiff nonetheless) and--she pushes out words nonetheless, as if not doing so will let out something worse]

--Written in the garden...up above...?

You hear me? She ain't the sacrifice.

We got, like - fish, and crabs and stuff. We can get you more.

[Takes hold of her arm and tries to tug her free,]

[ The fungus doesn't try to hold her—or either of you, really; it sloughs away easily, leaving behind a fine coating of slimy putrefaction. But you catch its attention, the mushroom-crested head turning your way.

It—she?—leans over to Hurricane. She is whispering again. ]

A͘n͜d t͡he ha͟nd͝ of̵ t͘he st͝ru̸gg͠l͞e̴ wit͢hin͠?͡ th͢e ̨fatal̛ ̴so͞fţn͏e̸s̷s in ţhe̷ ga̴r͘d͟ener̸’s ̕p̶almś –͢
͝ ̛ ̕ ̛ ̧ ͏ ́ ̶ ̀ ̨ ̸ ̢ ̧ ̕ ͏ ͜ ̴ ͟ ͟ ̢ ͞ ͘yo̡u l͜earn ͞t̡o revel҉, in t́h͏is̷ you͞ swo̡re͏ t̨o ͟c͡arry ̧i̷n͢ y͞o͠u, sw̸or͠e̴ ̴y̡ou s̡ẃo͏r͝e͘.

I ̶c̸òn̕s̸tr̕uct ar̡c̨a͜di̷as̷ ͘to fo̸rgȩt ͘my̷ ̷ach̡e,͠ ͠I d̕ec͝orat̛e͘ t̵he͢ l̵i̧g͢ht̕,
̡havin͘g ͜s̷o̷ ́l҉itţle o͘f i҉t.

[ The words aren't really an answer. Perhaps, to this demon, they are simply the next best thing.

...And still, that slick of rot and spiderwebbing tendrils of mycelia is growing, extending out past the beach, out over the sea...
What was it that Nemesis offered, exactly?

There is more than one way to interpret the word "here." ]

[From her expression, Nemesis does not know what exactly she offered herself--at least, what she'd thought she'd offered doesn't seem to have been accepted, at least not yet... In the meantime, hopefully the mainland is fully stocked with Damp-Rid,]

Cross-- Don't.

[Her tone is low, however, and with his grip on her arm it's easy enough to take his hand again, though she still tries to keep herself between him and the mushroom princess. She addresses her next:]

...I swore, not him. And you swore, too. So-- What happened to planing the knowledge of whatever? ...What...are you doing, actually?

Edited 2021-06-13 01:42 (UTC)

[His hand closes down on hers, cold and clammy; he's caught sight of the fungus spreading out over the water, finally]

Looks like it's taking whatever it can get.

Dude - that ain't part of the deal. You ain't answered nothing, and even if you did, you ain't just free to do whatever. You understand me? That ain't the deal.

[ She turns to you both again, the brows of her uncomfortably human face furrowed in what might be confusion.

Her fungal fingers reach down; briefly cup each of your cheeks. There, there.

She opens her mouth— ]

Y̷͇͉̗̼̘o̵̥̮̟u̱̱̳̜ ̥͇̣͙͕͇s͍̗͡l͎͇͍͞id̦e̮̠͓ ̜̪̰d͓̟o͚̟̤w̜̼̱̼̗n̢̺ i̬̹̲͟n͎̭̜̙̺͞t̩͓͖͞ͅo͕̞̘͚̗̬ ̗͈y̬̞͓̫̖͔̥o̲͙̲̠̠ur̫̦̗͚̹̭ͅ ͏̫̖̹̦̘͖͔b̞̯o̖͙̹d̠̝͙̩̙̞͍͞y̧̺̳͉̣̘ ͕̭̯͝a̸̗s̝̫͔ ̶i̱̗̱̻̳͓͠n͈͕͈̹ͅto̵̟̱͈ ̻̦̰c̢̩̳̫͓͓͚r̴̪̘̭̰̬a͕̜͝w̷̻l̦̺i̼n͚g͔̜͞ ̛̺̯f̢̜̫̺ŕ͍u̩̪̖͍͠i̳͖t̳̪̙̭̝ͅ ̼̖̘̘͓͙͕t̞̺͔̹̜̬̬͡h̘͕́a͢t͇͇̘̤̪̼͝ r̮̱͜ḛ̬͔̗̜̬͞m̝͚a̧͕̠̪̤̭ͅi̧n̢̳̤͓̤͎͚̱s̸̯̫̻̹̣.̯̫̬͈͎̩͜ͅ
̻͓͉͚̻
̲͖W͍͙͕̲͚̗̼h͓e͔͔̩͖̯n͏͚̟̱̲̣̬ ͎̺l̩͖͚̼̪̪a͝t̮e̻̗͖̫͜r̟͚̮͟ ̴͇y͚̠̹̩̠̖͞ǫ͚͖̭̭̜̘u͎̰̣̱͍̗ ̺͚͝a̧͇̼͖̝̜ͅr̼ͅe̺͎̻̰̩ ̧̠̻͇p̤̱͚̘̱͕̺i̪̭̳̱͙̟c͉k͎̕i͏̼̪̫̱̰n̡̟̫̺͍̗g̢͉̟̫͕͇̮̭ ̝̹͙̕ḿ͇y̘̞̬̻̦̞ ̥̺̲͙͟b̩o̵͖̳̥̻n̹̻͕̹̘̕e̘̫̪͓̺̺͈s̜
͉͙c̯ͅl̫̼̠̘̥̫͙e͚̤a̻ṋ̺,̛̞ ̟̤̫͔͡al̙̝̺͖͟l͙̻̳̖̯͟ ̥̜̥s̡͇ha͚̜̘̜l̶̩l ͇͟ͅr͔ęj̼̠̕o͚i̹̟̗̬̻̫͙c͏̦̘͖͈̯͚ͅe̻͘,̴̪̩ ̻͚͎̻̦͘f͇̮̻̮̹̰̥o̘r̼͇̰͔̖̬̪ ͕͖̹̕ͅt̪h̼̺͍̲é̬͉̝̜̤͓ ͈̘im̻̬̭̣p͈͇̱͡a̷̟̺̩̥̥t̛̲͈̺i͎͔̣͎̕eń̙̗̰̭̘c̖͖̣̹e̱̫͔̯̣̜ –͈̺̟̩̰͙̰
҉̠̝ ͓̟͕͉̰ ̟̜ ̞̫͡ ͔̼͎͓̝͘ ͏̞̤ ͔̦͚̠̠͚ ̻̼̫̫ ̧̞͔̖̜ ̱̜̮̝͉ ͎̟ ̘̞͖͜ ̙̫̳̹̣̝ͅ ̧̹̬͙͈̙̞ ̵ ̶̱̺̻͉̣̼̝y͡o̳ṵ͉̼ͅ ͍̠h҉̩a̬͈͇̦̳̺ṿ̪̻͓e̟͔͙͔͟ ͏͓̰̮ś̥̦̩͙̰̫͔e͇̗̬̠̙͈ḛ̞n̲̼͓̫ͅ ̹̰́ͅt͓͎hè̖ ̶͖s͓̤̻͎we̡̱͎e͏̠̫̲̱͍͙ͅt̀ ̜̮̥͠s̳̯̘̲t͇̣i̺͚̞̟ͅc̝͈̯͕͢k̩̩̺̩ ̦̹̰̤̩i̴̦̭̺̥ņ̤̘ṣ̮̜͇̖̖e̘̠̝̫̥̥͟c̭̙͝t͔͚͙ ̺̻̝͎͍c̼̼͈u̹͔̫͖͈̝͈r̟̼̼̜l̷̰̮̻̤s̴̬͔̖ ̛͎̤̻͍i͙̻̗̦̻ͅt̪̬s̳͡ȩ̙̳ͅl̬̗̰ͅf̦̙̹̮̻̤ ͔̯̀o̜̘͔̦̦̖̖u̟̞̰ͅt͕̮̣̣ ̴͉̺͍͓͓̥o̘̬̠̼̪̭̭f̡͙̰͓͉ ͏͓̬͙̝̥̱m͏͈͙̭̝̝y̱̗̭s̜̤e̟͡lf̢͙̬ͅ
̦̦͔̮
̧ ͓̥̰ ̙ ̯̙͙̥͚̺̹ ̞ ̛̳̺͇̳ ͏͎ͅ ̶ ̹͔̣̘͕͠h̵e͕͓̝͓̝̫͚͟r͞é̮̼̥͇̹,̸̘̠̤͈̳ ͓̪̳e̡̞͇̲͍̺̼v̙̼e̶̯r̼͜ỳ͖ ̨͕͈ĺ͎̺̘i͖̻͚f͞e̜ ̨͎̤̜̹̲ì̠n̠̼̲ ̟͡d̩̬̜͕̺̘́ͅe͙a̪͖͔̞͎̗̰͢t̜̜͔͕h̵ ͕͖͈͡f̶̠̺̞͉͚̭̭ọ̺͖̕r̬͈ ̲̳̯̙͕̫̖a͏̣ll̶͍ ͓th̻ͅa̼͍̥̖̱̥̲͘t̴͕̟̺̠ ̹̭͈k̶n̳͕̠̤o̳͎̜w͕̫͜ ̸̮̦͉̳̭̪li͈̱͡f̗͕̱̘e͓̖̪̠͇̫̥͝ ͉in͏͎ ̦͇͟d̗͍̺̣̻̹͙e̲̩͖̕a̖̺͇͈̪̱ṭ̳̱̖͇̘ͅh̢̼ ̙̮̠̱͝u͓͇̙̝̱̫̜͜p̭o̖͠ͅǹ̥̲̼͖̮̱ ̺̬͇͔̻͍͠d͝e̮͟a͍̞t͚͉̀h̗̩͈͝
̫͖t̮̮h҉̩̯̠e̞͚ ̲̞̰̣̖t̡͇̹͕͍̭̭͓ḩ̱̰̖͖̤̟i̢͎n̖̯̫̤͡ ̳̙̩͙m̜a̟̻͔̥̹̳n͖͇͕̠͓̼͈͜ ̹͔̙̤͓̙c̶̲̘̺a̠̩̜͖̹͎͚n͔ ̖͖͢b͚͉̩͕ea̕r̖̲̟͝,͍͖͈͎͕ ̘̟̼̼̮̪Í̭ ͉̳͔͠wḙ̛̰̮͎̝a̷̞̻̯͖̺͎̲r͕ ̴̳̻c̱͎̺e̠̝̘̤͡nt̡̞̙̫̠i̭̼̞̠p̱̪͈̺e̘̠͎d̘e̦̖̥̪̬͞ͅs̻̜ ͇͚̥̭̳͖i̼͓̲̟̖̮͖̕n̟̘̬̺ ̻m̪͚͓̣͕y̖̰̳͙͖̤ ̙̩̳̮̱͍̜ḩ̭̖̲̜a̮̫̝͇͈̖͝i̧̙͕̳̹r͎̤̪͇̝̥̠ ͔̯͍̘̼̳͍s̹̖̻̲̤͚̫l̲̯̺͍̦̦̘u̶̙̲̺g҉͕̼̙̼̼̫͔s͉̘̤͖̣̮͜ ͔͈̪̳̙̳cu̶̘̝̮̪̝r̥̪e̷̞͉ ̴̟̮͈͍t̫͠h͏̙̞̗e̜̥̕ ̸̗̞̮̘̟͍s͚͓̯̳͔͡t̻͔̖̲͖̰͝ra͖̞̦͈̱͙n͏̬ͅg̶͔l̮̟̳̭͈̞ͅi̥̭̫̟̗̮͟n̶̹̺̲g̺͉̞̱ ͍̳͕f̫͎r͇ui҉͕̮̯t͏ ̛͔s̸̩̟̱̖ḥ͠a̼̼ĺ͈͎ͅl̵̦ͅ ̼̖̟̟̲͞a̪̗̗̲̼c̳q̲u̺̩̳̣i̹̹̥͙͉̕r̟e͓̥̦͚͎̗ ͏̖̘͉e̲̲̲͖͇̪v҉͙͚ȩ̜̮r̶̬̙̖̩y̛̖̩̺̩͍̳ ͈͉̫v̼̯in̻e̠̫͝ ̞̝͙̝̩ͅr̲͕͚̞̼̦̮i̪̦͇̤͚̪͎v̡̮̤̣u̴̠̺͎̜͖͖l̜̼̰͕ͅe̖̻̩̻̹t͟,̵͇̦̪̗͙ ̯̲s҉̙͎̠̺̩̱u͕̗͔r͈̯̻̹̫v̘̫̖̺̕ḭ̙̖͢v̺͇̦̖̝͇e͚̘d̤̼̦̺̱̥͕
͇̲̕ ͙͉̝̯͝ ̝̜͓͟ ̢ ͠ ͔͇̪̼͍̥̀ ̨̺̬̲͈̟̬ ̙͖̖͉͞f̛͇̥̮̼̖̬͉ǫ̠̣r̨͕͚ d͖͈e̶̝̘a̖͔̪̘̠̮t҉h҉̳͈̜̮͇̩.̷̺͓̟̣̳̱
͕͚̙̱̰͖̺
̮͞T̤͎h͖̬̖͔̀ͅͅḛ̻̜ ̡ḿ̙͚̟̙o̤͕ͅư̟̼t̜̳͖͝h̻͙̩͚̝́ ̣̀&͏̘̪̙ ̩̞̞̣̀ạ͈͙̙̘l̨̠̭͎ḽ̶͇̙ ̳̖͖̦̖̟͇o͎̠t̢̩̮̺̟̪h̭e̱͈̠r ̥̖̞̼̗̟th҉͍̜̹̳̦͖at͚ ̕s̬h̳͇͍̼̬͕͔͝ḁ̸̯͈̺l̛͚͍̻̟l̜̰̪ ̻̠̙̣̘̘b͜r̨͖͎i͖̮n̪͉̩̬͇g̜̤̘͕ ̞̥͓͞i̥n͕͓̘̻͚ ̖̯t͓̗͕̘̭ḩ͉͖̲̯͎e̪̯̖͚̦ͅ ̢s͉͉̹̣ͅẖ̴̬ad̞͔͖͠o̧̬͖̦̥̗w̬̖̻͚̭̫s̡͕̲͇͇̭͚ ͙̼͜a͏͔ ̵̗͙̼̤̻g̲͈̭̙͓͚̰ŗ̯̙͉̬͚a̙̞͘c̙͉̦̙̹͚e̴͙̞͉͉̙̫͎ ̣̺̠͎a͇̗͍̖n͉̘̭̫̠̣d̛̺͕ ̨̭̠̗̖͈̯ͅa̯͔̱̺̯ ̢͍ͅm̸e͚̜̱r̺c̤y̟̤͙̻̞͕ͅ ̦̹̬̪͎́f̨r͈͉͍o̷̫m ͓͔̘̹w̸͔̩̜h͏̤̦̲i̛̺̹͍̭̰̺c͕̭͓̝̦͢ͅh̠͚̲̟̟̬ ͚͉̰͍͎͔͓s̮̞̘̣̞͇h͖̻͙͖ͅa͓͙̺̦͎l̼̗̭̝ͅḷ͕̮ ҉̬̱̤͍̹dḙ̵̬̰v̭̲ơ̻͕̰u͖ŕ̻̱̹̭͇͖ ̩̜̖͢and͓͈͚̠̥ͅ ̷̳̹̭͚̞̱sư͈̼̗̩͙̘̹ṛ̨̦r͕̗̞̹̳o͕̥̫̠͔u͎͔̯̻ṋ̷d̢ ̡̪t͕͈̻h͖͙e ̪̹͝p̖̬̖̤̱̞̺a̲̰̥̼͖s͓̕s̡̘i͔̘͝n̘͍̲̖̗͔g͘ ̼o̶f̛͔̭ ̶̬̟a̷n̵͎̘̙̬͎ a̪̝̹̩̞g̳͟ḛ̵̲. ̛T͔̪͚ha̲͙̦̠̫͠t͔̺ ͡w̵͈̟ͅh̸͕͎̗̦i͇̳͈c͔̘̥̣̠h̲ ̘̻͎dí̹͉e̡̮̣̗͖s̠̹̘ ̘͎̺͙̤̀s̪̯͎̭̻ḩ̦̥͓̤̩̥̩a̼̝̘͉̗l̰̱̠͞l̛̯ ̤͓̜̯ḅ͔̱̣̤͇͈͟e̬ ͎i̸̠͔̜̭͉͍n͖͍̱ ̲͈̞̖͎̤th̖͕̫̗̖̕e̹͇̺̞̪͎̙ ͚̻̖g͕͞a̗̻r͡d̜̺̱e̶̮̺̬̣̯n̦͠e͈͓̜̳̪r͉̞͜’̘͞s͏̘̼̦̫ ̠͔̺͖̪̱ͅl̶̬į̜̙̗k̖̣̞̳e͏̗͖͔ ̳ą͈̩̱ ̭̲͈͇̬̬sl̩̻̙̣̮͘ͅͅa͍̳̭̦̯̙͞b̪̰̗̭̭
̭̻̜̻̳́o̠͠f̺̬͈̤̩̭ ̡̙͇͓f͉̥̥̻̗͚l̤͉̱͓̻͕͔a͕͉̺ͅm͈͚͕̻e ̛̱̗s̹͖̺̼̥h̬a͕̥͚͉̹̪l̩l̥͉̝̰ ͍͓b̧̗e̫͚̜̝̼̟̰ ͏̲a̬̺͠ ̶̺͕̙̪̰f̤i̡͓̞r̲̻̳̕e͚͎̰̬͢ ̝͍͔͈͚t͇̼̪̮̖ͅh̠̣̻̠̟̪͕͘e̗̟̦̬̝͍͡ ̥̹sw̶̝̤͚̤̜e̢̻̗͙̩̪ͅl̬͙̝̩̳l̛̜̗̪͍̲ͅ ̧͇͙̜o̳̙f̥̘̝̘̤̯̯́ ̡̻t͇̻̰̜̰h̖͝ẹ̕ͅm̰͚̳͉͍͠ ̯̦͎̪̮̳̠b̨͎̠̘eḭn͔̜̮̩g̲̖̙̗.͙̰̞̟͖̫́ͅ
̛
̪̹͖͓̺̦͍c͚̥͎͙a̵̙̪̱̝n̨͕ ̡̻̭͙̰̠͔y̠̣̳o͘u͎͕̳͈̫ ͢f͕̳̗̫͔̞̗e̵͓̭e̸̬̹̲l͍̞ͅ ͟y̡̮̪̻̻̣͖̥ơ̘̤̻̯̱̰u̯͠r̜̺͈͠ ̞̖̞͡h̵͙̹͎e҉̫̰̖̭͎̻͉a̪̟̟͔̫̻r͇̥̖̳͍̝̲͢ṱ ̦͢b̀u̟̣r͈n̫̘͎̮ͅi̛n̴̻̝g̹̪̹?̠̭̻̘̜͖ ͇̫̥̳̹c̘̟̖̩̲a̶̩͈̩n̪̮͚ ͔̞͇͖̗͚̀yo͏̬̹͕̭͇̞ų͍͍ ̹̤̠͎̱̭̀f̱̥̘͉̫ḙ̱̗e̛̗l̡̗͙ ͇̜̻̜͙̖y̵͈̟̖̝̞o̙̲͎͙͍̘͇u̷͚̭̩̦̮̞ͅr̞̀ ̛̼̪̘̤̬̼̭h͈͇͇̲e̩͕̝̥̖͙a̤̼͍͜r̼̼̩͕͕t͇͍ ̯̹̙̯͠b̬͚̜̲̳́ṷ͙̯̮͟r͖̜̺̖̦̠͚n͈͕̞͘i̠ng͇͉͈͓?̦̟̣͠ ̩̮̟̤͚̮̙c̭̼̖̤a̻̱͔̮̩n҉̦ ̞y̛͚͚̳o̟͈̥u̬̙͖̹͍ͅ ̡̭͇h̯̕o̯͉̹͔u͉̗̳͠s̵̥e ̠̲͎̹͢a̶͕̯̙͓̜̗͓ṉ̜̯ ̜̗̤̺̹͢e҉̰x͎̮p̲͞a̺̲͉͓͖̭ṉ̵̯̯ḏ̦͇͉̺͓͞i̳͘n̹̥͇g̸͓ ͚̺̠̤̩n̫̲̟͚̕o̻o̳͖̻̼͉̜n̸
͓͍̙̩̫͞t̠͇͉͓͈ͅͅo a̶͖̠̖̩ ̯̥̣̺̰h̗a̝̥͡r͕̯d̤͚͘ ̫͍̤͡g̢͍͓̘̰̤̻r̨̮͎̻o̶̞̭̻̩͔̪u̵̘̯ń͙̠̣̯d̹͉ ̜̝w͈͔̺̱̰͕ͅị̸͖̰̦t͍͈h̛̘̪͓̬̳ͅͅ ̭͠ͅa͏̱̼ ̪̰̭̲̼͠s͖̝t͚r̫̠̺̺̫̀ͅa̡̺̜i̱͕g̩h̢͎̖̩t̛͔ ҉̥͈̩̫ho͚͔̤̝̘̲ri͏z̘̞͕o͖̤̘̞̩̦̙n̵
̝͚͎̟͖̘ͅ
̠̮̤̝̪̥a͎̹̰n̨̰͉̬͚͇͈d̯̬̜̜̗͇͘ ҉̝y̟̰̞̞͘ou̸
͕͢m͏̤̺̠̹̱u̧̫̱͙̬͔s̷̳̤͍͔̣t̥̮͇͘ ̸̹̪l͏͚̘̪̺̟̱e͔̣̙̻̤͘ͅa̺̖̰̦̱͈r̹͈̫̟̯ǹ ̩̯p͇̪̗̱r͔̺̳̼͙̯͟a̗͉͢y̼̻̺̫̪ͅe̕r͕̕.̦͈̹̼͖
̛͚̺ͅ
̘̙̘̭̙̬̖L̠̟̼̳o͏̹ve̶̺̰͓͚͔ ̰̪͚̖̻͝i͇̹͎̬͜s̡͖ ̲͎͈̮̤̟̦c̗h̸̗̺̝̞͖̱̰o̰͚̼͓͈͞o̖̲̜͙̪͖s͙͔̠͓̰͓i͕̯͚͎͟n̤̝g̤͇̩̻̝̹͜,̝ ̵̠̱th̯̤̳͜e̛̱̳̝ ̙̤s͍n̻̲̹ạ̪̪̭̝̜̲k͔͉̦͇̱̮͍e͙̫̭̪ ̲͙̖̯̦̩i͜ṣ͚͍ ̳o̧͖͍̩͍̩̱f̨̞͈ͅfè̼͖͚͍͓r̠̀í͚̞̝ṇ̮͟g͈̯:͙̭̤͜
̮̤̗͓͔͙̱d̻͖͉̳̗e͎̺̖̼a̳̩̦̮͎̦t̗̠̙̰͠h̘̝͇ ̥̝̙̥̬͈u̷͚p̢̝̜o̥̬̹̣n̡͖̯̲ ̘ḑ̤̜̯e̡̼̱̲̫̹͕a͕͙̰̱̥̣̖ț̯̮͔h̞͈̙ ̰̦̦͈͕̭̪s̢͖̞̩̙͓q̭̦̭́ͅų̯̥̳͔̰̟e̗͍̣e̴̘̯̪̱͉z̞̱͓͍͝e̮̪͜d̥̰̫̹̠͠ͅ ̹̦̩̞t̠o̼͇̬̗̘̳͚g͖͈͎e̱͇̼͕͖͈t̫͚h̠̳͖̗̺̹̖e̖͍̤̱̣r̶̥̹̪̮̱ͅ,̛̞
͓̰a͇̣̙̠͎͎͇ ̝̞͉̳̞ͅb̺̘l͚o͏͇̻͕͍̮o҉̳̩̼͖d̳̤̙̰̬ s̟̱̻̞͝n̨̲̳o̲w̸͙̦̰̘̣͎̙b̟̲̙̹̹̠̻a̬̳̬̼l̗l̫.̡̯͇
̳̱̝̳
̤T͕̮̱̥̪͈͡o ̨̺dev̗o͉̩̩͍̻͙ͅù̹̺͇̱̣r̳̫ ̭̘͓̠a͏̙̗͎̖n̴͙d̰ e̥̹͇x҉̦̦p̱a͉ͅͅņ̗̰̝di̖͓̹̞̠͔͡n̟̘̖͎̫g ͙̯̫g̝̙͖̝͇̼̤e͉͢ṇ̵̯̻̘̖̤o̡͍̠̝̥m̲̺̜͈̲̯͜e͇̗̣̥̣̼̱ ̷̤̹̹̜͚–̢͔͉͈̜̗̲͓ ̣̻̺͖̖̻̩th̝͍̱e̬̤̮ ҉͈̟̹͖̪w̰͎̥̰orl͓̮̰̼͡d͇̩͈ ͉̪w̫̣͔͉̲͈̼i̷̬̲͓t͈͍͓̯̫̦͡ͅh͎̻̺̖į̖̗͉͇̫n͏͍͓̳̘̥ ̵̤̖y̘o̰u̮͇͔͔ͅ
̥̭r̢͓̭̠͖e̴̯̜̙͍̞̯͚d͉̬͙̕ ͘a̗͖̙̬̤̺̝n͜d̝̖ ̜̖̻̫̕ͅc̖̫̖a̶͍̩p̖̖̰͙̞̖t̵̮̻̱̱ͅuṟ͈͍̥͔̖͙͝e̠̠͚̪͔̙͠d̛,̜̮̭̮ ͝t͚̥̲̞̞̝̯͡h̥̟͔a̵͉̩̼͕t̳ ̡͔̤̠̯͎t͖̣h͘e̫̤̺̫̩̗͟ͅ ͉̬̻ͅi̢̪̭̯̗̱͚m̺͎͖̗͜p͍͇̖̼̜̼̘a̴t̰̩͓̱́į̲͖e҉̘n̛̤̝̯c̠͙̺̩̲e ̕o̮̩͖f͏ ̷̩̯̖̤͇̰͓t̢͔͙͔̰̩h͈̺̀e ̷̹̘̮̖̩̻s̝̫̹͓o̗̰͝f̷̫̼̰ͅt̷͓̩̼̠ͅ ai̮̩͕ͅŕ̪̪̤̯̥,̮̦̪̭̠͚̗ ̷̗̬̺w̞̞͎e̛͉̺̙̰a̼͈̘r͇̱͇͔̱̥̩̕i̙n̷̜̠g̹͔ ̴̟͔̹ͅc̨̰̫o̵͎̯̬̬̥̳a̮̭̣̥̳̹͡t͎̻̣̯̱͠s̩ ͏̪ơ͓̣̹f̶̥̬͇̠͔̞̙ ̣̪͚̰͙͙ͅl̳͈̞̯̞͔͝e̯̝̝̹͔͖͡a͔f̕ ̝̼̤̫̙͖͝ͅi̸̝̙̫̳n͇͇̼͕͖̜̯s̨̲̮̙̪͉͖e̪͉͉̲͉c̨̻̣͓̦ṯ̼͝s̙.̠̫̲̕ ̹͎̳ͅS̩̺̜͍̀k̪̥̱͚̼͇͈y̘̬̰ ̵͚̗̮͕̜t͚̜̫͎̺̤a̜̝͈͓͕̫̰ll͓̞̮͙͓̯ͅ,͍͙̝͘ ̱̭̠͍̻l̨̙̞̤a̮̥̲̹̥̼n͖̪̺̳̞͓̭k̪̳̻̰y͈̳ ̵ḷ͓͍͞ón͎̰͕g̼͟ l̬̻̳͝ͅȩ̼͎̰ǵ͎̼g̸͈͓̖e̛̩̮̰͙̣̬d̳̭̯̩͉̗ ̼͚̻̣k҉̲̻̜̺̘a̱t̖̬̀y̦̹̹d̼i̢͙̜̗̟d̟̗̺̱̟s̟̠͕̭̪͚̺ ̨t͏̮r̩̭͜aip̛̦̺s̩͎̟̯ͅe͔̻͓͔ͅ ͎̮̬̣̼i͎n̖̬̱͠ ҉t͍̭͉̙̪͠h͏̠̜e̲̣̗̞͈̹̭ ̰̰̖̳fe̵w̵͉̹̼̦͕͔̬ ͓̕w̶ḩ̮̜̟̮̼͕̤o̟̝̦͝ n̰̯͉̳̯̝̪e͉̲̫̼͢v̼̙͇ȩ̥̞r̖̥̖͚̼̺̯͜ ̗d̴̠͖̮ͅͅi̬͉̟͡d̟̪̺̟̹̳ ͇̘̫͓̝b͏̰e̴̖̳̫͙͖̦f̜͕̩͉̟͙̙o̪r͔̙̘̺ͅe͈͘.͈̖ͅ
̪̣̥̞͈̦͇͜
͉͓̳T̠͖͎͓̱̕ͅh̡̖̠̮̭̬͚̮i҉s҉̥̯̹̞ ̤͔̞̜͍̯͍i̼͚͈͕͠ͅs̡ ̷ţ͍̘͎͖̠̩h̝̻̙̣̰̖̘e̩͓̭̤͘ ͔͡p̥͍̺̻o̸͕ș̩͖̣̣͎̪͞s̮̮͙̬̘͡i̘̳̖͕̻̩͓b͙̝̗̭͍̫̕i̶l̖͍̣͎͙͚i͉͈̳t̝̰͖y̸͈̗ ̺o̸̭̣̰͎ͅf̰̳̟̪̺̮ ̫̝̼̜̕ḏ̹͎̺̟̪e̡̳̺͙̱̝ͅa͓̪̙͔̦ṭh̥͜
̞̠͢t͖̗̜̱͓̰͚h͟ḙ̥̤̬̮͎̀ ͢s̠̗̠͈͡n̨̦͓a̵̹͇ke̟̺̪̮̙͡ ͕̟͙̺̗̬̝i͡s̼͔̦̻͢ ̭͎of̣fe̷͕͍̥̪r͏į͈̱ng̴̞̙̼̝͉, ͈͝I̲̮̗̙ͅ ̳̬̲͉͎̹͙g͈̦̻̫̹̖r̳o̡w̢͍̦ ͏̮̠͓̘̮͖̤ho͓͖̟r̙͜n̰s̩̜̖͖̪,̷͇̪͖̦̝͚͕ ̝̫͓s̨h̤a͓̠̰̬̙͡r̴̘̰̞̦͇p̜̞̲̗̤ͅ ̮͎a̵̮͔͇͈ǹ̰̦͚̱̬̠d̞̱̯̼̯͙ ̸̳͎̣ͅt͖̟̞̘h͎̳͝i͚͔͢c̝̖k̴̘̦̜̥ͅ,̭͈̩͕̖ͅͅ ̵I̥̰̺̙ ͓͎̥͉͙ͅḇ͙͎̰ṟ̕ͅea̸̠͍͉̤k̡͉͍̯̪͇̮̮ ̫̯̗̺t̀h̻e̳̞̺̬̤̭̺͝m̬͍͇͇̝͙͖͞ ͈̙̗͖͎͓̱o̜̠̖ͅn̷͓̫̭ ̘̖̯̗̪̩m̜̺̥̹̲y̭ ̛͖̹̣̠̪͚s̮͍͖k͈ͅi͟n, ̭͎̖t̮̩̗̤h̙̲̝̜̦̼é͚̰y͔͟ ̧c̦͉͈o̰͘o͉̫͍̕ an̼̦̠̤̙ḑ̤̘̮͕͎͉ ̛̲͈͖͖̞g̘̝̘͇͍̩r̶͙̦͇o̷̥̞̞̼̰͙w͝l̰̳͙̼̻̗̫ ̲̜̘͍͜a̝̟͎̼ṱ̪̟̱͜ ͎͈͍͓̺my̛̺ ̱̥ac̛̝̠̹h̨͈͔̟̗̟̹̪e̠̳͢ͅ,̘̭̼̕ I͇͈̲ ͍̪̝̰̜̬͜ͅd̻͕͖̪̗e̳̟̳̖͚͇ć̖͎̙o̞̙̖͓̹̺̜̕r̟̰͎̠̯̖͡a͡t̷͎̣͔e ̺̯͔̫͖̹ͅt̨̰͉̯h̡̺e̸͈̟̼͚͖̻̲m̮̪̳̗̟͚̮͟ ̥͇̰͖͉ͅo̡͇̣͍f̢͕͉̞̭̝͇͍f̷̲.̹̻͎̙̥̯ ̧Ị̷̮̘̝̺̰̘ ̛̰̫f̩̘̬̱͞a̬͇̦̖̮s̡͇̬͍͎̝̻h̩͙̰͠i̺ọ͍͙̝͓͠n͎̦̲̖̣̼ ̝͚͙̹̣͜my̡͎̬̬͓ş͎̱̦̱̩e̘̭͓̩l̛͙f͇̭̭:̦̣̩̜͔͇ ̫̲͙̟̪́wà̲̠̠͖̲s͕̳̬̣̹̟̀h̭̦̹̭̜̪̯e̜̘̣̗̩̞ͅd̪͖̟̣̬̹-͍̬̱o͙̞̺͕͞u̼͚͍̣̙t̖͇͜,̥͓͈̤̳
̮͖͔͇̜͚͉͘c͖̪̺o̯͇̱̟̩͟l̘̞͚̣̠d͓̰͓͇̘͠,̦̺ ̷̭͚͇p̼̼̫͟o͖͘n͎̩͓̼͓͍d̥̝͍͈w̛̥̖̫͎͇̱̝e̵̙e̼̘͉̞̺̬̘͟d̞̘̗͕ ͏̺̥̖̖t̺̬͜ḁn̷g̴͕̤̟̬̝l̻͈͚̘̟ͅe͙̖̙̼͈͠d̜͉͔͚̳͎ ̖͞ͅi̡̝͓ͅn̶̦̯̖͎͓͍̜ ̶̥͓͙̟̩m̙̻̭̞̺̫y̭̳̩̖̫̱͔ ̴̫̦͓͇̝̯s̞̙̱̻̼o̥̣̪̥͔̯ͅf͖͖̗̥t͖̬̪͍͓̹͕͘ ̼̗̳̩̤͍̭b̡e̪̲̙̗l̴̲̫̗l̗͕̞͇̤̕y̠̻͘.̛͍̬̪̦̤ ̤L͇̯̲͎̯e̛̘̯̜̱̹̗t̼̣͓̯̬̟͠ͅs͚̗ ̠͎̖̲̫̮ṃe̦̻̕ ̡p̯̘̟̯r̹̥͜a̴̳̳͙y̫͖̱̗̖̗͝ ͇̠t̪͇̮̣̠̫͜o̲
̛̬̭̗
a̲̝͇̤n̥̹͓͇͠ḑ͇̜̣̹̯̘̺ ͇̜y̸͓o̧̩ų̹̪ ̼͉̼a̗͖̙͕̤̱͞n̗̹̟͞d̼͜ͅͅ ͍̜̞̜̗̭͍̀ș̯̤͓͍̟p̘a̫͎̱͖͕͖̗͡c̸̖̼ͅe̘̹ ̴̝̞e͍͇͇͘n̦̮f̩͉̯̹o̩̪ͅl̜̫͉̗̬d̪͈̮͚̥̥̦s̸͕̯̞̭̫̙
y̴̖͎̘̺̱̜ó͓̮̩̲̗͚̯u̠̼̰͚͇ ̴͍̦̲̟̞i̡͔͓n̝̰̬̗ ͈͓̞͙̺̖i̴̟ts͓̻̭̤̱̩̬͠ ͈̹̜̤̯͈̲a̠̙r̜̬̖͚͓͔ͅḿi̢e̟͕̟̝͈͇̱͢s̖̝̫̤̗͈,͔̯̜̮̥͙͕ ̮̮i̻̜̗̙n҉͇ ̮̬͙͍̦̪̻t̼̭̞͚̳h̞͉̭͖͚e̝͔̻͢ ̨̫̮͍͉͔k̛͔̺̮n̷̹͖͈ow̝͚̹̰̮̯̼͞l̶e҉ḑ̼̦͚̮g̟̗͇̲͕͚e̢̜̞͔̜̜ o͢f̴̦̝ ҉̩t̟̬͇ͅh̢̪̰̰̻̤e̳̻̙̰ f̥̠e͚͚͉͚̖̹w҉̤̰͓̠͍ ͇͚̬̲͇w̨̜͕͍͕h͚̠̩̪̣̺̞o̡ ̢̲͍ņ̪̰̩e̷̝̖̗̳͎v̨̹e͉̠̰r ͏̻̲w̳͚͉͓̺e̳͚̱̦̹̲̞͠r̸̦e̢̬̮̦̜̝̗ ͕̟b̦͙͖͕ơ̗̠̦͚͕̺͍r̙̲̜n̹̩̲̜̬ ̝̱̭i̗͈ͅn̘͙͔͚t͈͜o̢ ͙̳e͇͖̗̼v̖̱̹̫e͈͖͍̣̗̮ŕ͈̩̪̼̥y̖͙̙̺̜͉t͙h̖̝͓̺̭ͅị̙͖̭͇̤n̷̮̠̠̜̪̜̥g̹̬͙͡ ͓̭̪͇͡&̩͚̬͢ ̥̲̲͇̭̺n͈̫̳̹̤ot̟̟h͉̪̖͚͈ͅi͖͙̼͕̦͉̬n̛͔̥̹g҉͓͕̜̣̙̳̤s̙̪̞͟ ̢̹͈͕̟̮̯͖of͙ ̖̜̣͍͚͚t̨̗̰̬͍̫he̷̻ ͏̯͙̱ͅéa͖̤͎͎̝͘r̡t͙̺̤̞̯͚̜h̥.͙̝̠ ̡T̲̝h͙͍̞̗̼̰͉e͚̺ ̺̮̩̥͍͝s̛̫̞̝h͙͚̰a͕͕͍d̳̹̫̖̝̮ǫ̺̭͕w̙̜s̴̜͉͔ͅ of̳̯͉͍͓̳̲́ ̼̟̻th͓̺̫͢ẹ ͈̭p͇̝̟̞̀e̞̣t̛̳̪̖͙̪̠a̴l͓̯͉ş̮̱͉ ̖̜̭̣̦͚̙o̠̟f̵̱̼͇̜̝̜̮ ̧̪͕̻̖͕t̖̜̺͠h͕̜͔̖͙̥͖͟a͕̺̠͚̘͎̪t͏̜ k̜͟n͚͕͓͞o͖̖͠w͇͇͠ͅs̯͟ ̖͠t̯̼ḥ̲̝̤̝̮e̘̳ ̴͈͔̜̻ͅs̶̹o͇̱͍f̺͖͇̘͕͈̺́t̪͕͇͉̬͟ ̧̩a͘i̪r̞,͡ ̩̭̣͔ạ͖̮́l͖̟͝l̞̮͙̠͕͉ ̵ś͈t̡̻̹͙ͅi͕̺̻̘͙̘̟c̸̣k̟͇ ̱̱̙͜ͅo̦͍̱͘ͅf̷̭̦̰ͅ ̼̱͍p͠o̯̜͔͍̻̫͇l̯̝̖̣̗̗̦l̛͙̜̠̳̪̝e̴͇̰̥̝̣̪n̘ ̸̦̻̜̟̻t̺͖̬͔̯̯o̖̱ ̷m͔̼̩ỳ̳ ̹̯̗͚͇͍͇l̶͔̹i̹͓͚̝̰̣̟p̶s ̡̜̻̩̙w̛̦̘̝̹̩͓͇h̵̩e͈̗r̥͉̠e͇ ̡̞a̲̮͉̣̦̞̳ ̸̮͉̲̲̼̞̺b̭ṵ̢̯͔̣̯ͅt̹t͇̤͇͓e̡͉̭͇̮̜ͅͅr͇̲̣̙̙̭f͙̥̜̘͞ḷ̸̝̮̼͙͍ͅy̹͖̫̞͔ ́c̵̜̝̹̱ͅṳ̢̰͓rl̟̪s͓̞͓̞͈̪̼ ̻̫̘͙̤̗̣͠i̹̺̕ṯ͍͙̹͕s͚͔̝ͅe͉̖̤l̡̳͍͖̦̪͔f͈̩͖̭̖̩ ̠̰̪̬̦o̴̠̮̣̬̝̹ͅu͚͙̻̰̙t͏ ͚̼̜̟̬o͍̫̟͇f ̜̥̟͔m̢̥͉̺̬y̻͎̭͇͘ ̝͔̟̘̠͓̺ea̰̠̼ͅr͎̥̤̦̭̠,̭ ҉̲̣͈̬̺̟̳Í̖̭̳ ̰̠͕w͎͇̟̠ear͓̀ ͓̺͍͕͠l͖̀į̟̲͓͈̜͚v̬̯̹̺e͏̦͍̟̙ ̹̣͚͙̖̜i̪n̦̠̩̤̼͔͝ș̞͈ͅe͙̩c̷̖͔͎͚t̟̹͈͍̮̣̗͜ ͖̹c͓̱̗̟̗̺ṷr̺̹̯͕̱͠ls̤ ọ̟̪ut̶,̪͎̹̼̦͇ ҉͙I̢̮̬̩̹̞̼ ͏̠w͢ḛ̯͇̳̺a̝̩̼̫̳͇r̘͚̳̝̥̀ ̱̼͠c̙̥̳͡è̲̦̰͔͖̤̦n̛̙̞͍̮̹̤t̥́ì̱͔͎͚̩̲̮p̧̘͈̭̣ẹ̹̼̱̕ͅd̥̜̞̘͔̹͇e̙̰̳̹s̠̙̬̜̩ ҉̘̻̠̝i̲͖̫̟n̙͙̰͓͎̺ ̨̳̠m̫y̯̩͉͚ ͔̹̱̰͈͎̙h̠̞̱͙͇a̼͜i̱ͅr̖ ̻̘̗ͅa͍̙͉͎̘͕͚l̡͙͕o͎̼̝̣n̳̹͉g̬
w͕̦̠i̶t̛̰͚̪ͅh̗ ̡̳̱͔͉͍̞̺y̹̩͖o͉͚̼͉̺̟ư̙͇͇̦͔r̮̭̮͎̗͍͙ ̥͎f̠̳̯i̠͓̲͙̯n͓̹̝̕g̹̹͕͕e̥r̗͖͟s̩͇͉̱͟.̩̼͚͎͡ ͍͍͈̘̩̻͢I̦̹̫̜͕̼ ̗̖̤̱̖h̦̰̝ͅa̦̟͖̺v̼͍͟ͅe̖̬͕̫ ̜̥͡ạ̟̼͖͖̤͓ļ̞w̢ạ͔̰̳̳̩͈́y̢͔̰̱s̰̼͝ ̞̞̱w͕a̭̲̙̪͔̩͇i̳̜̫̳͈̻̥t̨̙͈͚̺̙͓̼e̶͚̳͓̱d͈.̻͈̙
̭̠̟
̞̙͡T̴̳̟̘͈͔ẖ̙̦̖̪̘e ̧̦͉̭̞̗͚͔s̤n҉̻̥a̜̹͔͍̦k̻͡e͏̠̪̼ ̶i͔͕s͖̠̺͎̣̟̙͢ ̣o̴͇f̲̗̰̰͓̞͉f̤͔͚̰͖̗͓e̹͍͞r̛̹̰̭̗͖͓ͅi̧̗̘͚̙̗n͉̖̟̞̭g̘̙̰̱:̛̰̙̫̘̭͇
̷̯͚̪̭͖̱̼ḏ̼̘͢e̳̺̥͖͔͞a̦͉͚̠͟t̡̗̣̠̲h̩ f̯̩͕̦̳o͇r̩̦͔͈͓ ̰̩͈d͈̺̜̜̭͓͈͘e͡a̮̲̥̹̕t̴̫̫̰̣̮̦͈ḩ̮̺̞̱ ̤̭͍͜up̙o̥̠̞̰n̩̩̩̲͉̟ ̹͞dẹ̬̹á̯̩͚͖͚̩th̩̩͎̮̻̜̯.̯̯̼͉̲̹̯͞

̙̹Ṱ̹̘̥h̸̤̝̮e͕ ̛̺̼͖͇͍͓ͅk̺̬̬͔i̤̟͜n̡̯͉͙̟g̰̤͟d̝̰͍̮́o͇̠̙͕̝͇͚m̦ ̛̞͖̫͓͔̯o̬̘͉̗̻̣̪f͕͉̫̭͡ ̺g̭͚̜̝̘͎ͅo͢d͍̺͔ ͖̖̫̟͙̟̦i͓̯s͏̲ ̼̯̲wi̶t̨͔͕̼̞̟͙̯h̘͖͞i̥͜n͎̜̰͜ ̰m̢̼͕e̜̲͚ ͈͈i̢͚̳͍̠̠ͅs͓͇̻̰͚ ̖̰̭̮͘b̝̘͇͈̫̫͘ey̦͚͇o̥͕͇̱̮̟̖n̬͚͎̰̺̠̱͞d͙̯̕ ͏̬͓̘͓̣a̩͠n̰̹̘͉y̕ţẖ̗͖̠͔i̲̩̻͕͔̝̻n̪̯̘̠̖ͅg̖͖ ̶̜&͖ ̢͓̼̳ń̦̖̺̟̞̫̻o̶̩̲̤t̵̥̹͇͉̣̬h̳̬͎̙͜i̤̳̠̭̙̹̮n̞͡g̛ ̢̯̗al͖̮͎̖͞l͕͚̹̫̫ ̼̥ͅa̢͔̫̼͉̫̯̹t̠̻͠ ̟̯͚̥͙ͅo̥̦̖̪͖͝n͕̯͇͟c҉͚͖̪̜͇͇̟e͠ ̳̫͍͙̙̤–̦
̣̦̤
̝ ̣͔̯͚ ̴ ͏̦͕̱ ̩̙̜̲̺ ̲̹ ̳ ̴̺͎̣̲̠ ̖͖̗͉̝̕ ̥͉̙̰ ̡̬̼̭ ̼̻ ̷̺̳̥̬ ̱̕y̨͉̱o̫̬̠̹u̼̻̭͉͍̖̺͘ k̦̯͕̟̩͝ņ̤͕̪̼e̺w̧͕̲ ̭̥̟͔̮̤͙̀s̯̫̞͓̪͢e̖̖͎̞̦l̢̪f̷̭͇̗͔̪͓-̮̬̤̲d̨̘e̥͕̩̣͍͜ͅt̮o̫͠n̼͙̬̭a̵̖̹̱ț͉͙͈̫̞ì͖͙̣̺̙ọ̳n̸̜̥̭̪̱’s̨̲̯̱͇ ̜̫s̟̤̘͉͕o̻̤̙̖͇n̞̯͈͎̙̣g̜̭ ҉̟̟̰b̸̞̤͖̤͍̻ͅe̜̺̰f̩͎̟̺͎̘͕͠o͈ŗ̻̝̳e̟̥ ͎͔͢y͖̰͖͖̰̠o͇̱̖͔̯̲̘u͍̫ ̷͍͖s̫͎̭͇̟͖͝ͅw̡̦͕͇͉̝͙͈o͇͎̫̘̥͜r̮̤̣̣̻e̼͙ ̧̭͍͈̣͓̗y̳͍̙o̠̱͇̕u̠̬̻͍̜̳̮ ̮h̨̙͈̜͓͙͙ͅa̼̝v̗̼̱̫͝e̞̭̞ ̩͈s̴e͕̳̩̰e͏n̤̪͠ ̱͉̺̩͉͢t̹̟̲̝ͅh̴̺̞͔̦e͏͓̬͇̺ ̜r͓͕͇͉i͉̟͍̩̦b̡c̘̭a̰̮͚g͢e̴̳̮̗ t̴͚͖̲̤ṳ̦͍̫̻̜́ͅr̸ṇ̱͇s̠͙̰͕̱̩ e̺̝̞a͇̞͖͙̻̘c̪̝h̰̰̩̩͕͙͔͟ ̫̟̤̟̹p̣̮̤et͏̗̠̠̖al ̦͇̖͇̭͕͔͡a͏̘ṋ̙̥̯̞d̰̱͙̰͈ ͙͉̭͇̻̺͠v͉̟e͍͈̤̘̳͢ị̷͇n̶̩ ̨̭̖̦͔̯̜̱a͓̯̥͉̗n͏̭̞͉̝̗̺d̬ ̡r̼̬̼̹e̸̯̳̘̝̟͙a͏̪̜͓̱n͎̗̭̺i̷̘̭͎m̴̗̗̼͈̗̫a̘̰͓͠t̗͕e̱̪̬͎̹̖͙d̵̺̻̝̣̭̬ ̹̲̩͎̭̝̙i̵̱̗̞͔̼͍t ̠͎͕̣̹̭̪́s͔̯h̯͓̝͚͕̦al̝̥̺̩l҉͇̯̘̝̘̘ ṟ̩͇̻̩̦̜e̼̘̕j҉̰͔ọ̢͔i̝̼̳̗͎̞̬ç̜̯e͓̭͝,̱͖̞ͅͅ ͇̖̤̗͡f̠͚̤ͅͅo̩̬̭̯͎̤ͅr̮ ̛͚̹͕̻̗̠ț̠̪̮͍̱h̘̀e͏͚̻͚̜͙̬r̪ḙ̞̺͔͍͟ ̖͓͓̯̜̗́w͎͖̱̦̪̼͟a͕͞s͟ ̼̰̰͟wa̯͈̰̰n͚͇͞t̸̖̝̠̩̖̲͖.҉̫̯͚͕
̡̦̬S̯̙̞͎̠͖̼͟k̴̙̘̠͎y͙͙̱ ̡̱̰̥͓̟̯t҉̯̳̩͉̠̯a̡̖̮̠̮̝̹l͇̪̯͓̀ͅl͓̰̱͔̫͖,͙̼̳̱ ̨͖l҉̟a͟n̰k͚̩͝y̨̻͍̞̰͇͈ ̟̪̱̺̹͖̤l͈͍̦̙̹̠o̼̗̳̬͖̯͟n͙͎͔̯͟g l̡̘̜̳͔͚͎e̢̖͕̱g̻̫̲͔͘g̝̥e̖͖̥̱̺̮̻d̴̜̜ k̞̤̯̫͖̹̝a͎͈̻týd̨̞͉̱̤͚̳̙i͖̻̖͙͝d͏̹̩̠̥̼̪͎ş̤͍͔ ̢̮t͠r̰̙a̵̞̟̘̲͚i̶̲͕p̸̥̠̠̭s̵e̯̖̮̞ ͏͚͎͚͉̗̤i̸̟̖̤͕͇͙̜n͓̥ ̳̭͎͙̹̞̬t̙͕̲̦̖̩h͖̖e̼̠̺̭̺͝ ̻͕g̠͎͔a҉̠͉͎̩ṟ̣͉d̥͓͖̘̺͚ͅe̜͕͈n̪͖̥̹̦̱e̩͓ͅr̸̯’̸̰̝s̮̳̰̱̠̝ ̝̞͔̝̫͢p̗̥͖̺̬̫͙͠a̼͎l̷m̙̭͓̙͟,͚͡ t̴͉̯̻h̤̪̻̪͜ͅḙ͉̫͓̜̺ͅ ̣͓̭̤̙̕b̘̭͙͍̺l͉̟̱̲o̱̜͝o̡̻͓̗̘̫d̖͘i͓̳̮̣̣̯̕é̘̪̻͖̱̹̭s̷̙̜̬̙t
̵ ̜̤̗̜ ̼̗̦̳ ̯̱͍̦̬͕ ̤̗̯͈̮͜ͅͅ ̶̘̲̤̝̖̰͓ ̲̻̟̯̹̪̥̀ ̗̣͢ ̴̙̥̹ ̯͇̻ͅ ̢ ̧̬̺ ͇̣͙͢ ̪̱͔̯͔́ ̥̤͉̯ ̱͝ ̝͙̯͙͎̗ ̖̺̥̱̣͕͞ ̥ ̶̬̭ ̮͓͉̘̭ ͕̝̘̝͎͖ ̴̟͕̺̣̞͔͎ ͍̙̠ ̳̯̬͎̮͚̼ ̙̩͖̙̙̘ ̭̫̳͙͓ ͉̻̭c̱̤̺͍̟̟͖l҉̪̣͈o̗̹̕u̟͇̬̺̹͘d̝̠͈s̨̗̱̼ ̻̮̯&͇̲̺ ̗̣̰e̻͖̪s͍̘̫͇͟c̝̦̙̘̜͔ͅa̜͉̜̖̬̟̰p̣͙e͔̹̞̖̝̦̦͢ f̤̗͙̤̝͚͚r͇̳o͚̱m̩͔̰̼ ̬͔͚͍̱̬͟s͓k̡̲͓̝͙̱͎u͇̮̺͖ḽ̩̲̲́l̖̼̺̜̝̦͢ ̘̠a̘̦͟nd͎͔͎͟ ͢e̸̠͇̝͍x̥̥̫p̶̖͎̱a̻̪̯̯̱n̡d͍̬͉͉͓̯ ̤̘̩̖͟ṯḩ͉͎͉̻̰͓ͅe̸ ̤̖̼͍͟k͇͔͍̭̻͝n̦͔̠͔̫̗͟o̸͕̘͈̩̹w͓̯̺̻̮l̖̼͍e̴̟d̘̮̼̫̰̹͔́g̳̞̯͝e̗̪̦̲̝̦̰ ̡̲̟͔̬ͅo̵̹f̣̜̯̫͖͍̀ ̜̰̬ṯͅh̘͚̪̞͖̜e̝͔̣ ̠̪ḏ̖̳̬͞e̳̼͚͠a͕̹̩ͅd̹ ̖̺̦̩͉́t͙̪͉̰̦̭o̩̼̱̭̲̗͉ ̡̯r̨͉e̬̞̼v̞͎̙͇͎̜̘e̙͉̱͖̫̺̭l̞a̦t̹̙̲̹i̖̺̻̮on̦̩͉͜’͚s̙̰͓̭͠.̩̤͔ ̠̳̼̰̖̠n̫̟̯͍ơ͕̦̥̟̱ ͖̠̖̮̪͎͢l̢̥̭͕̯o̲̯̜̥̤̞v̮̞͓̰̱͎̼e̦̭̱̻̬͉͈͞ ̨͈̖̮h̬̰͢e̹͕̩̤̪̪r̖e̸̤͍͉̰̫.͇̜̙͉̹͍̖
̻̬
̤̀T̺̤͕͍̻̖ͅẖ̞̘͝i̯̲̝̮̬̖̕s͕̫̙͓̖̰͚̕ ҉̭̲i҉̬̪̝͎̹ś̰̝̯͈̮ ̢̱f̦͎̠̪̲u͈̩͓͔ll̵͚̫̰̹̙͖͈ ҉̮̲o͉̟͞f̳̜͈̝̬͙̼͞ t̬̤ḩe̙̝ ̫s͖̹̥̮̲̣t̴͙͕r̟͕̳̯͖a̲̥n̷̖̫̟̯͖̙ͅg͖ͅl̼̫̼̬̜̙͓i̹̩̯̣ṇ͍͖͇͈͎̯g̩̫̮̲̫͞ ̭̬̭͘ͅfr̫u͏͎̻̙̺i҉͓̙̣̞̯͕t̲̻̯̖̀,̩̜̜ ̴͕̰įt̰̤s̞̗͡ ̻̬̥͙̯͡d̫͍̙̬̺̞͝a͇r̤͖͞k̖̣͎̣ ̫fl̨̹a̛̭͍̩͙m̹̤̲͔ͅe̵̻̳͓̻͉̤ ̷̪̖̙̱s̘h̲̰̮̘̫͠ͅa̺l̙͚̪̞̬̞͝ͅḻ̖̭ ͔͔̣͚͢à͓̳̯ͅc̬͙̞̺͝ͅq͈̪̤̳̣̱ú̥i̠͔͔̖͚͠r̻̝̤ȩ̝̠̠̬͓̱ ҉̦̯̥͈̮̦e̮̪͇̪̱v̪͙͎̬̱̝̤e̡̲͔͖r͇̼̥͢y͙̪͎̲͈͡ ͈̫͇hi͏̝͈͓̖͔̩s̙͓͍̟͇͟t̶͇o̘̠͚̕r̭͙͖y̗͍̼͞ ̻̕o̸f͙͎̖͈̜ ͖͖͈̝̙ͅs̶͓͚̗ͅel̮̳̯͓̺̭f̵̞̯ ̨̩͓is̛̟͉̯̳ ͠à ̠͕q̥͙̰̭̱̩̦͝ù͇̰̜ͅͅi͍͉è̠̳̖̤͔t͈
͓̮k̵ị̡͕n͔̭̱͓̪̯̘ḍ̙̣̰ ̶̬̖o͏͈f̰̥͉ ̦͡t͍͙͔̘̹͟h̪̱́e̦͍̹͓͙͕ ̲̘͘l͚̻̣̣̞̀i͙̲̟̺g̴̥̭̗̹̥̝h̗̙̯̜t̼̙̮͎͇,̢̜̮̫̼̮
̼́h̞͖̙̙̦̗̻a̜̝͕̤͖̦͟ͅv̶̺͓i͙̗̤̤̤n͖̤̮̦͖͡g͜ ̪s̶̲̗̭o̢͉̮͚̩͕̻ ̨l͚̤̲͝ͅͅị̸͈ṯ̞͕̹̙̗̠̕t̖̗l̜͢e͓̤͓̫ ̣͇͖o͔͓̯̼f̶̙̳̣̗͖ ̰̤͖̭̘̺̙i̘̜͔̭͉̕t̪͈̭̳̮ͅ:̶͎̹̖
̛̘̖̳͓͔̠̗
̯̹̻̜̣͢t͈̣͕h͓͎̦̫̖̬̕ȩ̝̖ ̷t̯̲̙̹̗h̗̦i͖̳̤̱n̡̳̱ ̨̬̼̩̜m҉͇̬̹̙͖͓a͕͕̲ͅn̥̣ ̨̙w̧̤͖̬̗̰i̥͡t͚͚̮̫̠̤h ̺͈̱̫̜a̢̼̯͕̹͕ͅ ̘͓̘͍̥̠̫s͇͎tr͏̱̻̙̬ͅa͘i͇̘̱̫̕g̞̘̠̬ḥ̦̝̭t̝̘ ẖ̤̺̩̤̭̠o̺̮̤͔͓r̝̲̫̠͚͝i̷̫̫z̧o̴͚̲̳n̮
̩͞
̶̱̰̠a̖̤̭̻̺͡n͍̯d ͟t̕h̰e̗̬ͅ ҉̙̺͔̘̙͉̘m̛̳̤͍̯i̷̯͉͈͎͓n̻͓̩̹͔͈d͍̦̪̭͇͝ ̗̝b̺e̵̼̝̳y̙̫̠̭̠̪̳̕o̵̱̦̜̥n̵̮̖d͍̻̺̳̪̣̮ ̕w͔̖̖͓̭͡ͅh͇a͓͉̮̠̹̳͜t͎ ̺̪̹̯͓̮͠c͉͔͉̭͙ͅa̪̩̳̭͖͓͙̕m̡͕̭̬e̼̰̣͞ ̴̱͖̟̜̙̠̜f̻̰̯̜̩̝̮̕r̷̞̠̣o̕m̱͚͎ ̹̤́h̻̘͇̱̤͕o̜̖l̡̺͍l̞͇͍̝̣̦̕o͏̯͚w͔̬̠̙̺ ̥̹̹̮a̺͙͈̳͎̮̠b҉̫s̙̦̥͔͈e̳̠͟n̼̟̝̲͇ͅc̦̖͉̤͓̹e̪͈̜̳̹ ̤̮̙̰͓ͅo̲̝̖̭f͡ ͓̬̣̼̹̞t҉̦͇ḫe̱̠̞̗͚͔ ҉e͈͔̻̳͖a͙͈̖͎̝̺̺r̹̬̻̥̺͙͝ͅt҉h͉ ̤̗o̦͉͙̰̣ṛ̞̖͍̘͔͙ ̲͎̥̼a͕̞̘b̺̩͍͎o̶̟̟̣ͅv̵̯͎̠e͉ ̛̤̳͎o̤̳͟n̪̮̞̱̦ ̦̝̫͙̫̟͝g̘̫̥̖͈͙ŗ͉̩͎͖̙e̝̹͔̱̗̞̯e͓̠n̖̺̩͔̤̬͇-̬̻̘̬̻̲͖w͏̖̪̦h̪̰̹͙̭ḭ̞̗͈͈̼̳t̺̝͚̜̗͠ͅe ҉̭ͅs̘̼̬k̗̻̼̱̟̦ị̗n͠
̦̲͍̘̤͔̣ț̱̹̼̠̰h̴͕̭̪a̛̼̫ţ̮̟͉̝̹̝̦ ̩m̲͔a҉̣̱̰t̟̼͖̪̥te̞̞͇̺̖͕r̮͔̟͇͚s̪͢
̩͎͈̙̙͜
̘̞͙̲͕͡T̤̠̱̜̘͍͚h̯͚͖̹͙͕̭e͔̯̰͍̭̭̦ ̶̻̫̱͉̮̦ͅś̙n̤a̸̼̦̰͚̫̺͙k͍̟e̖͎̲͉͚͇̮ ̞̬̞͔̩e̯̰͚͘n͎̥̻͉̺t̨̝̫̦̠e̻̹̠͚͙̺̠r͚͈͈̺̻͇̝s͈̖͎͓̙̭͜ ̯͎͓̺̗y̳̦̲͓͠ͅo̰̗̦̕u̘̟r̸̭ ͎̣̲͟b̮̮̦̻͍̹͞ͅo͍̩̻̪͎d͉̙͉̙͓̘y̙͢ ̗̠͓̫̪b҉̩ut͈̩͔̕ͅ a̻͈ h͈̥̼e̻̦a̸͕̲̘̭̝͔d̛
̨̳th҉͙a͇̝̭t͕’̱̻s̘̲̮ ̢n̬̹̩̙ͅo̥̼̗ ͇̣̪̭͓̳͢a̝̟̗̲p̥̦̫̟̗͖͈p͉̻le̖͇̦̼ ͡b̡̝̰̜̱ͅu̝̣͇̹̻t̸̥ͅ ̛a̬̺̦̮͔͠ ̶͍̘̬̙̝ḫ̪͇͟e̵͉͇a̰͙̗̣̬̖̠͜d͔̯̙͖͡
t͖͚͔̟͓h̰̗͚̖̖̰͖́a͈̹̬t̬̼̳̗͚’̬̹͍̜͙͚͝s̹͞ ̠̟̞̀n̟̥̺̼̲͎̖ọ̘̜͔͚ ̬̱͈̺̀s̻̼i̘n͚ ҉i͕̭̥̙̼̠̱n̨ ̻ș̢͈͖̩̤̘h̠̲̺̹͚a̜̼͈͍͖ͅd̟̠͕̳̦o̰͞w̦̰̜̰̟͖ ̶̗̬o̲̥̱r̨̯̣̞ ̣̝̬̹̺̲i̡̗̤͙̖̻n̷͈̩͔̪̯͉ ̻͙̘t̮͓h̨͖͍͕̼ͅe ̵̹̗̤̼͈d͓͇a͙̻̟̻̹͎͇r̮͚̻̜̞ͅkńe͟ss̰͍̫.̙̮͙̞
͚̗͓̼̻̳̬
͓͠ͅH̖́ȩ̫̱r͝e͚ ̬͕̻̙̪̻̲y͡o͙̠̠̜͔͉͈u̴̥̯͙̰͇̳͙ ̜͎̮c̬̮̠̱ͅa̩̥̘n͙͈̣ p̛̟͓̟ͅr̛̠̳̻̥͉̘a̖̗̝͢i͈̫s̡̬̖͉͈̖̺̤ḛ ̝͈̞̞͎͡ṯ̻̲h͓̪̣̣̮͓e̬m̖̮͠ ̫͕͈͓̪̻̦w̳̬̺ị̦̭̱̦̫̺͜t̯̮͈̰h͡ ͉c̙̬͟o̹̠̞n̹̝̗͇͈̪͙st̠̜̩̖͙͡ͅe͔͓ḷ̠l̦͙͠a͓͙͕̺͈͙t̲͇̯i̢̤̭̠̰̟͈̩o͍͚͙̱̼͡ń̻͖̼̙͍̟̭,̱̙̤̫ͅ ̳͖an̩͕͡d̼ ̵̤͎͍̤h̟͍̮̭̙̬̱i̝̣̬̕s̷̱t͕͍̩̝͙̰͞o͚̜̬̞̣̳̺͜r̢̮̤̠y͔͕̤̳͉̤̞
͉o͓̦̫̜͚̝c̲̼̱͘c͍̦̤̲̻͈̳u̙͞r̹s̼͕ ̡̯t͔̣̦̦o ͈͉̱f̧̖͍̱̳̲̯o͈r̶̼̞̘̰g̹̺̪̩̪̖e̵͕͕̺̗̥̼t̯͉ ҉͓͍̮̩̫̳m͏̠̥͙͔͈͎y̸̟s̩͘e̗ͅḻ̙̟̣̺̀f̢̼͚̣
̠̣̫
̗̞̜͚ ̦̥̪̞̪ ̵ ̪̜̞̤̼ ̴̝͕͔̞͉ ͚̫̯̼̗ ̡̺̲͍ ̵̟̦̼ ҉̝͖ ̖͇̙͎̮͖̕ ͜ ͇̙̹̫͈̗ ̨ ͖̗͓̯̣ ̹͙̥͈̤̀ ͉̬̗o͇͍̖̺̜͓͝f̯͇ ̯̹̭̜̻á ̮̱̩t̳̱h҉̫̟o͙͉̦͡ͅu̵͉̦̳͍̠ͅs̟a̮̟̥̹͓n̡̩̼̦d͓̤̹ ̭̲̣̩͍̫͝k̟n̘̥̣i̪̕v̲̖͕͚͘e̠̪͙̻͖̯͙s͉̘̝̦̙͢ ̟̫̖̰͔ẁ̦̦̘̲̥ḩ̫̮̩i̙͈̯̞le̸̟̞̱͖̜ f͍̻̟̜̯͇͝r̘̙̻̕o̸͎̺͔̹̳̝̳m̭͈ͅͅ ̼̯̩̣͈̱ͅo̲̮͇̟u̼r̵̠̙̜̦̰͓ ̳̝̮re̴̱͎̗̘̦̼fr̺̙̼͓͖̦a̬̞͡c̮͙t̤̹e͉̯̱d͡ ̴̰͖̜̗̱͍r̴͇i̴v̭͍̱̰͇̫e̠̳r̀s͙̦̮̹̖̠,̮͜ ͕o͉̖̥̖͓f҉͚̟͇̰͎̘ͅ ͏̱͚c̪̫̣̝h͚̝͓̜̣͓ͅa̝͓͚l̫͞ḳ͢
̠ ̙͚̻ͅ ͍̳c͔͕̰l̺̤̺o̖̻̣͓̠u̻͎̲̲̕d̗̻̰̼̥s̴̱̱̣̥̹ ͇̯͙̪͈͜&̜̲̟̕ ̵̖̲̘̮͓̼e͡śc̥͎͓̳͇̺a̟̩̹̟p̦̼͜ḛ ̢͔̤f̢ṟ͍͙̼̙̹ͅo͟m̖ ͎͇̯̬s͇k͕̝̝u̵ḻ͍̹̪ḻ̬ͅ ͉͕̥͚i͝n͔̠̻̭ ̢̪̳͇f̴͇̖̤̹̘̝l͖o͠w̦̯̖͖̗̭̯͜e̜̻̼̭̘͜r̖̹͚͕̻͍e̯̱̦ͅd̘̩͍
̶̩̝͙̥ ̰͇ ͎̫̭͇̯̰ ̼̫ ̞̭̯̣̖͍ ̪̗̹͔̖͡ ̹̜̙̜͜ ̦ ͎̙̲̗͎͟ ͍͚̥ ͏̜͈̠̬ ̭̗̺̲̭͓ ̀ ͈̝͖̝̗̳̙͜ ͈̟̤̦͖͓ ̷̰̖͙͕ ̤̮̞̲ ̯̤͔̠͠ ̴͔̗̰̻ h̳͚̻̱̻e̳͈̟̤̝̟̹ŕ̮̪̦̹ȩ͍͓̮̹,̝̜̰͕̺̥ ̳͙͡e͔̣̠̜͓͢v̵̗̜͇̤̥e̪͝r̥̝͉̰͈͓y̰͚̞̺ ̴̙̩̱̤v̖̗̝͚̯͎i̝̞͈̜͖͓n͕̮͉ȩ̤̱ ̨͖&͢ ̱͍ṛ̭̀ͅo̳͉ò̺͙͓t͔̞̫̙̮ ͔̠̪͚͇de̛̖̭̬̻͈ṃ̟͕̯͢a͙̜̙̱͔̲n̤̫͈̮d̙͙̳͉̜̭̬͟s͖͚̯̝̘͉͡ ̤͎̪̤̤̪b͈̘l̹o̘̥ǫ͉̫̦̞̞͚̦d̠
̱̺͚
͈̩̭͙̙͙̀t̢̞̭̯͎̜͙o ̲̳̩̻̹̦d̠͈͈̻̠̝e͔v̙̹̗͚͎o҉̣u̗͈̖̥r̜̼͙̪̞ ̫͔̤͡a̙͙̤̺͘nd̵ ͍̤͡s̻̘̗̤̱ụ̝̻͖͓s͎̯̺̘͘t̳̖̱̻̠͉ͅà̳̹͖in ̶̞̭̣̣e̡̮̞͔v̲̭e̞͕̝̗̦͞ͅͅn͍̣̫̜̤͇ ͔̩͍̻̞̟͜t̬ẖ̴̘̖̩̻̮e͈̖̜͍̻̞̠͟ ͙͕͍̗̯b̖̥e̸̜͙͓͖̳̭̞g̳͓̝̗i̞̮͔͔͡n͏͇̲̺ni͉̰̪͎̞ṋ̨̰̱g̹͇̘͉̪.͚̮̦
̙̜̮͎̻̘̤͠
͡ͅE̢̞͇̺ͅv̙̺͢e̴̳r͜y̸͚̘̣̘̠͇o͕̗̺̥̙̪̮n̲̗̼ͅͅe̱̥͈̲ͅ ̗̘̻͉l̼͕̳̀o̩͇͝o̼̼̮͙̭̘͚k̻̮s͙͚̥͇̺͓̜ ̺̲̠͢u̙̰̲̦ͅn͇̙h̗͓a̦̫̮̼̗͍p̰̕py̱̗̙,̖̻͟
̤̻̱͉̭e̴̩̗͙̗̦̮̼v͓͔͈͟e̟n̜͕͔̫͇͎ ͔͕̞͘ͅt͙͓ͅh͏͍̜̘e̦̤̬̙̙̫̘ ͙b̗̮ͅͅe̙̙̙͙͡g͞i̻n͢n̵͚̱̩̯̟i̜͇̙̰̦n̞̟̬̖g̝ ̬͍̬̩̭̹t̮̲̟͔͚̬͝ͅhȩ̣r̦͙̣͕ḙ̖̲͔ ̗̰͍̦w͉̳͈͓̠͉̮i̹̮̟̞̪̜ṱ̱̤͚̮͍͝h̖̗̼̗͖̺̦ ̙̘͕̲̖̰̼t̗͈͚̠̟̱h͍̝̗̻͜e̴͚̥͚ ̴̤͇̱͔̝s̪̘̼͓͈̪̹̕e̶̫̝̘̭͉e̵d̷s̞͝ ̣o̞̬͟f̜͠ ̲̞̹͇͕̼ͅf̙̠̲͕l̤͖͎̠į̫̦͇͎c̜ͅk̫̲͕̠ẹ̟̗r̖͍̦i̠̹ṋ̘̤̝͙͇͉g̭̰̖̙ ̻̪̪͞ḑ̘̯̣͖̫̮̮r̲̞͔̭è͔̞̼̲̪̖a̰̬͕̤̕ͅm̦̬̤͍̝̲͓͢s̸̰̖͈̖̼̬ ̸̩̹͚t͉̮͞ha͎͠t̵̺̮̩͈̜͉̙ ̪̭̥̺͖̟͎̕g̰͖̩̪̥̭̦̀a̶͓t̞h͚͉̱͕̱͖͓e̙̯r͍̠͢ ̳̩̭͝ͅt̼͉̝͉͠h̙i͢ǹg ̢̗&̫̘̘̫̖̖̳ ̧̺͓͍̮͇̻ͅnǫ̺͎̗͎̮ͅt̝͜h̰̻̘̙̮̪i̵͖̹n̛͎̘̘̮g͎͉̰̭̩̳͔ ̻̭̰̤a͇̻̬l͚̬̩͞l̦̤͞ ̨̦͈ǫ̱̹͖̜̰ṯ̨͖͔̻̝̭h̯͓e̳̗͇͇͍r̻̙̦̦̯ ̩̣̫̻͓͇͕p͟l̷̩ac̨̜̟̳e̙̲s͇͉͎ ͡f̨͍̩̪̗ͅo̖͍͚̩͙ͅr̥͔m̮̲̣s̥͙̠̣̀ͅ ̧̰̫̮̜̰̜̹th̘̜̳͉̪̬a̟̜͚͕̳ͅţ̱͕ ͎͕̯̬̠͉̣g̢̪͍͉̼̮͎̜a̬̲̻t͚̖h͢ͅe͍̫̳̣̦̘r͙̠̲ ̻͖̝͙̼i̴̬̫̻̬͉̩̰n̥͓ ̥̰͘t͇͡h̳e͓̻͖̙͔͚̠ ̟̪̀k̦n̻͕̻̯͝o̠̬̰̼w̹l͇̻͝ẹ̭̦̭͖d͍͕̩͓̙͖͎g̟̱͇̤̲e̺͔̣͕̠̣̞ o̝͡f͓̟̲̩͕͓̝ ͚̹̰͠t̢͓̖̮̺h̥̙̫͘ͅe̫͝ ̣̤̮s̵̰͓͍̟t̫̣̟r҉͚͉͙̳̻͖a̛̬̩̙ṇ͈̪͚g̙ͅͅͅliṋg ̻̺͉̖̜f̘͔͕̘̗̦͚r̪͉̙͇̜̟u͢i̫͢t̫͈.̦̯͔͞ͅ

[ Nailed it.

The mass of rot and blooming decay turns away from you both, to face out towards the sea where even now, the swarm spreads towards the mainland. Her entire form quivers—and then collapses into the rest of the swarm. Again, the smell of decay threatens to overwhelm you, the smell so strong it's impossible not to flinch from it.

...But when you next open your eyes, all that's left is a fading cloud of spores. ]

Oh--

[It takes her a moment after it ends, still feeling the spongy, wet-warm touch of decay, the odor sharp in her nose, the roar of the whisper ringing in her ears.

And then it's like waking from a dream--she looks around--at Hurricane, at the altar, at the horizon]

Wait--!

Jesus. That's - that ain't -

[He pages through his notebook, frantic - back a page, and then another, and then another - returns to the altar, fale pale and hands shaking, clutching the hastily scribbled banishing ritual in his hands]

Ia ia, Cthulhu fhtagn. [He touches something invisible, above his head]

A’uk. [Draws his hand down, to his third eye] Neb em hu. [Touches his mouth]

[The ritual is longer than the other one, more involved; he is decidedly shakier, saying it. When he's finished, he points the dagger at his heart, finishes the rest of the words, and then cuts his hand to spill blood on the altar again]

[ The blood splashes against the now-rotting wood, and—

—not so much as a whisper. All that's left of the presence is its mildew-y residue—or all that you can see, anyway. Perhaps, though, as the blood soaks into the ruined altar, Hurricane feels those words echo in his mind, infectious yet gentle, almost like a question to pose himself:

I construct arcadias to forget my ache, I decorate the light
having so little of it. ]

Jacob--

[Sharp, and she can't stop herself from grabbing for his hand and the dagger this time, anxious and looking back to what else might be following]

E-enough--stop!

It's - it's supposed to send it back -

[Peering anxiously in the direction that the fungus-demon disappeared]

[She does the same, hands trembling around his as the last of the spores disappear beyond the horizon.

For long heartbeats she just stares into the darkness, then over to him, expression genuinely shaken. A beat later she looks down, pressing her mouth flat]

.........You're still bleeding. Should clean that up.

...you, too.

[A beat, and then another]

Didn't think to bring bandages.

...The swimming towels. Can use those.

Are you still bleeding or you wanna head back to town first?

[She has in fact not yet released his hand, so it is possibly a little difficult to tell, especially with the only light coming from the stars above, now that the candles have been rotted out]

I - I dunno.

I -

[A beat, and then another; from the feel of it, he is still bleeding; at least, his hand is slightly warmer than usual, with the blood]

We better check. What if it's like that one time.

They didn't seem like the imps...

[Her face pales nevertheless, and she clutches tighter at his hand, the grip slick]

We're still hours out of downtown, we won't be able to catch up. Can text somebody to keep an eye out for trouble...or just wait; someone'll message if it's bad.

[The breeze rustles through the beach and the broken hotel and the jungle that encroaches on both, and Nemesis casts around again for new visitors]

...Either way, should get outta here...maybe head for the dock and clean up.

Yeah... yeah. Sooner the better.

[A beat of hesitation. Then:]

Lemme text Dva. She'll keep an eye out if I ask her to.

...Okay. Don't say nothing to freak her out too bad. She gets into enough trouble as it is.

[Another pause, and she looks at their stuff, piled by the beach and rather worse for wear, and she carefully picks her way over, tugging him after]

Kay. I'll just ask her if there's anything weird going on, and if no, to kinda keep an eye out and let me know.

[Starts to go after her - hesitates]

...you think we oughtta take the altar? If stuff goes south, we might need it.

...Okay. Maybe--maybe. Could have evidence, or something.

[A pause, then she returns with the musty remains of her satchel, upturned]

Here. Don't touch it with your hand, just in case.

[She shoves what's left from her bag into what's left of her bag]

Edited 2021-06-15 07:10 (UTC)

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♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb83zpkAIg8 (cw: opening is loud and jarring)

Re: ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb83zpkAIg8 (cw: opening is loud and jarring)

Re: ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb83zpkAIg8 (cw: opening is loud and jarring)

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