*sees the meteorite that emme has delievered*

excellent!!!!

North Town

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢. 𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔞k𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱, 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔢?

"I... I don't like this..."

𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔯𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩. 𝔚𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔰𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡. ℑ𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫k𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔡. ℌ𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔴𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢.

——

While you sit and dwell on the information of your long dead brother, There is a shift in the shadows between the car-width space denoting the dead end half-alley across the street. Shapes twist and pull, the glimmer of light flickers from interior lighting, some lat-night crunch-time netter drawing too much juice into his 16 hour work binge. The swirling cacophony of people having their own lives, their own conversations pass on by, flitting to and fro between you and the alley. Giving a stop motion effect to the outward step, and then the other, of the slim man in the long coat. His glasses smeared with thumbprints, reflecting the lights from high intensity street lamps that give North Town it's theater of safety.

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔉𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔵? 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰k𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔏𝔬𝔬k 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔰𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱. 𝔒𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯. 𝔏𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔶 ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬...

"…I don't want to."

Almost at once, its as if he had parted the sea. Moses reborn, the human storm actively avoiding him as he stepped out into the street and shambled over toward you. His gait stilted, hobbled, without grace.

As he gets closer the people on the other side of the street, in front of your seated position, also seem to want to avoid him, taking the route into the street and around him.

His features gaunt. His skin sallow and porous. There looked to be an open sore on his cheek. His hair greasy a scraggly mop atop his head. It becomes clear almost immediately why everyone was avoiding him on his way over.

He stinks. Rotten. Carrion. Flies crawl along his coat, lifting off and landing. Into his hair, beneath his collar.

"Hello."

His voice meek, troubled.

ohhhhhhhhhhh baby

For me, it is the travel that inpires me to read every book I can get on the geography, biome, history and culture of the place.
Not sure I can single out a place.

duh

North Town

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢. 𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔞k𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱, 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔴𝔢?

"I... I don't like this..."

𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔯𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩. 𝔚𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔰𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔶𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡. ℑ𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫k𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔡. ℌ𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔴𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢.

——

While you sit and dwell on the information of your long dead brother, There is a shift in the shadows between the car-width space denoting the dead end half-alley across the street. Shapes twist and pull, the glimmer of light flickers from interior lighting, some lat-night crunch-time netter drawing too much juice into his 16 hour work binge. The swirling cacophony of people having their own lives, their own conversations pass on by, flitting to and fro between you and the alley. Giving a stop motion effect to the outward step, and then the other, of the slim man in the long coat. His glasses smeared with thumbprints, reflecting the lights from high intensity street lamps that give North Town it's theater of safety.

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔉𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔵? 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔰𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱. 𝔒𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯. 𝔏𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔤𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔶 ℌ𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬...

"…I don't want to."

Almost at once, its as if he had parted the sea. Moses reborn, the human storm actively avoiding him as he stepped out into the street and shambled over toward you. His gait stilted, hobbled, without grace.

As he gets closer the people on the other side of the street, in front of your seated position, also seem to want to avoid him, taking the route into the street and around him.

His features gaunt. His skin sallow and porous. There looked to be an open sore on his cheek. His hair greasy a scraggly mop atop his head. It becomes clear almost immediately why everyone was avoiding him on his way over.

He stinks. Rotten. Carrion. Flies crawl along his coat, lifting off and landing. Into his hair, beneath his collar.

"Hello."

His voice meek, troubled.

*waves*

Happy Birthday!

looks around a bit while seeing if anybody is around yet

OHHHHHHHHHHHH. Thank you!!

Lets go of your tongue now.

"Sorry. Did I ruin the mood?"

Humping into you roughly a few times.

"Did that help?"

Giggles.

Goes into bouts of silent laughter.

aaerghhhhhblllbbblbbnnneee

Suspicious

*polishes the bar counter*

I'm taking each toe between my lips and sucking deeply.....in rhythm with my hips.

bucking into you

khushidawson has started a new game with the following players:
khushidawson

" S T A R T G A M E : t r u e "{ " g a m e I d " : " 1 7 2 0 2 4 7 3 3 9 " , " p l a y e r L i s t " : [ " k h u s h i d a w s o n " ] , " r o l l N u m b e r " : 0 , " c u r r e n t P l a y e r " : 0 , " d i c e " : { " f a c e s " : [ 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 , 0 ] , " r e r o l l " : [ t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e , t r u e ] } , " s c o r e 0 " : { " 1 " : n u l l , " 2 " : n u l l , " 3 " : n u l l , " 4 " : n u l l , " 5 " : n u l l , " 6 " : n u l l , " p l a y e r " : n u l l , " u p _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " b o n u s " : n u l l , " 3 k " : n u l l , " 4 k " : n u l l , " s s " : n u l l , " l s " : n u l l , " f h " : n u l l , " y a h _ t o k e n " : n u l l , " y " : n u l l , " c " : n u l l , " y a h _ b o n u s " : 0 , " b o t _ t o t a l " : n u l l , " g _ t o t a l " : n u l l } , " o w n e r " : " k h u s h i d a w s o n " , " s t a t u s " : " r e a d y " , " r o u n d " : 0 , " l a s t P o s t " : 1 7 2 0 2 4 7 3 3 9 }

May your day be filled with pleasures and your year with blessings.

Happy Birthday!

glances around while relaxing in the bar