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@POOHEAD189 Thank you! I prefer doing outdoor activities than going to the mall or going out to eat for dinner, brings a closer to connection to the world we're living in, I think.

@The Survivor Now the northwest is a place I would love to visit! All of that rain, the green, the forests and the mountains. Where I'm at, we lack rain and the nice green grass, but it's still beautiful. Asides from the tiny insects out to kill you.

@gcold How long have our people been in the wilderness? I'd like to get started on the opinion section here soon, unless you prefer for us to wait until we get the ball rolling.


@POOHEAD189 'Tis a secret mate (;

I hope that I can convey my excruciatingly sore legs over to Athena. Sore fox is sore. Our hiking adventure today was more of a fishing excursion, but trust me, nothing beats catching fish straight from the crystal clear waters of the mountain streams, climbing over trees and rocks aside from that of course! I think my knees took the brunt of my pain ._.' But my fingers still work!
I will be going hiking today, so expect the changes done by tomorrow
DD: there's an app for Hangouts! Le gasp! We'll fix this problem right quick then...
Also, just lemme know if/when you're gonna be on hangouts so I can jump on if possible.
It was kind of your atypical medieval fantasy story, although, I've been having some serious issues with plot. Can't seem to create a good antagonist, one that is actively involved with the story, and not some evil-doer that does evil stuff because he is evil >.>' I literally just scrapped it all the other day, but I found a world-building/plot development questionnaire that should help me flesh out my plot. I'm kinda disappointed in myself, really, my brain seems to be fried when it comes to plot. I just want to write, but I don't want to write shit. I know that just by writing, every writer will write shit, but this is something I actually intend get published. Getting through the first draft is something I've never done before. But anywho, the idea is:

Protagonist (a woman in her twenties, struggling to find a purpose in the world she lives in) is the reincarnated spirit of the Great Queen, the only Queen, that lived centuries ago. Her reincarnation is the sign of a prophecy, where a dark evil grips the land, and threatens to destroy hundreds of years of established peace.

But like I said, my antagonist is shit, don't even really have one. >.>' fried brain is fried.

Yes! I'm glad to hear that ^.^, I don't know if I'd be any good at surviving in the wild if I needed to x) be too busy picking flowers and thinking, "Wow! Look at all of these trees!"

I don't know why roommates can't be... roommates, I mean, why do they have to make it so awkward? Why can't you all just hang out, and share the central living space like a normal family? Albeit, you're not a family, your strangers essentially, but I feel like there's no effort between people these days to establish genuine relationships.

D: NOOO! You poor thing. Cats are just the best. My roommate, the ones aforementioned, I would steal her cat, (ok not really steal him, but he wanted to hang out with me, so of course I wasn't going to say no...) and he just loved to sleep by me, during the day, though I think that was because my bed was right next to the window where the sun shone, aka, prime-time nap spot. Point being, I have a lot of pictures of her cat still on my phone... I mean its been two years since we've lived together xD but I still have them just cuz. The only big dogs I've ever owned are huskies, and I have to say, if I got a big dog, I would definitely get one, although picking one out from the pound is just as good.

I think they're based out of Toronto? It's great if you do have life insurance at work, but I strongly recommend you get something before you get much older, the prices just keep going up the longer you go without, and if you get really sick, like if you have a heart-attack or stroke later in life, and don't have any private insurance, your rates will skyrocket. Besides, work insurance isn't permanent, and when you leave your place of employment, it doesn't go with you, but if you want to keep, they'll charge three-fold. Some policies even allow you to gather cash at a guaranteed interest rate. Then again, I can't say for certain, because I'm sure Canada is different than here XD Definitely check into it.
A blush rose to her cheeks at his compliment regarding the stew, it could be worse. It could be black and charred, she’d had that problem earlier in her life when cooking, and on occasion, when she had forgotten she was cooking altogether under the influence of the pipe. She didn’t bother thanking him for it, rather, she simply listened to him speak, it was evident in his voice, his Irish accent that is. Certainly noticeable, and different when she spoke, but hey, in comparison to some Irish folks, at least she could understand him right clear. For her, hearing Shay’s actual blood relations to the Wallis’, indeed, did clear up some questions she had in the beginning when Sam explained briefly the connections between the Wallis’, Nettie Parish and Shay. Even more importantly, his father, was one of the original founding members of the Jolly Roughers. As he spoke, she put off eating her stew, giving it time to properly cool, while her brows knitted together, listening intently. So the Wallis’ father was a half-brother to Shay’s father, she presumed that the mother to them must have remarried along the way, and around came the Alden’s. Interestingly enough, at the mention of times turning for the worse, Shay’s father fled to Ireland in a rash attempt to avoid the consequences of his actions under the scrutinizing eye of the British law, clearly not giving a damn about any of his family that remained behind in England. From furrowed brows, they rose in unison at the letter he intercepted in the mail from Clint. She scoffed quietly under her breath at the encounter with Leonard from the shop earlier that evening, that was an event that would be hard to forget. Something she took for granted really. As a British woman, she never had to worry about insults of her origins, unlike Shay, where just opening his mouth to say a few words would garner the attention of the general public. When he admitted to the loneliness he felt in his life, a commiserating smile touched the corners of her lips, the thick brows lowered in recognition, she understood that, to be sure. What with the death of her mother, no close friends to confide, save for Sam, or even the confirmation of any other living relatives, Vera truly felt alone in the world, if Sam passed away, it would be only her that remained, and then what would she do?

“Even if you were French, I don’t think I would give a damn, unless of course, you smelt like piss.” She bantered, “I have to admit, I find it highly intriguing to know that your father was one of the founders of the Roughers, of course, now I know what Sam means when he says that your kin to them. I suppose that’s a good thing in a way, at least you have a big family.” What she did say of course, is what it felt to hear Shay say that were it not for her brother, or her, for that matter, no one else really had taken the time to know him as a person, and not as a living, breathing hunk of human flesh. So to speak, the honor to know him, when no one else took the time, lifted her spirits, it made her feel like a caring person, or at least a being with a good-natured soul. Mother would be proud, she was certain.

“And come now, you’re one of the nicest Irishmen I’ve encountered in a while, eh?” She hid a smile behind the tumbler full of whiskey, already, her head felt warm, and she could feel the burning in her cheeks, she could feel the numbness in her lips and tongue emerge; she would have to be careful, Vera wasn't one to hold her liquor well. “I’ve not seen you fully blown off the seat either, as I’ve seen a few others in the Tawdry. So, as I’m rather curious to know… If you don’t mind my asking that is, I’m sure you hear this question rather frequently, but, what did you do in the war? Or rather, how did you learn to shoot so well? Blowing the head off that Jepson fellow in the pouring rain surely must’ve been a daunting task, hm?” Sam never spoke directly to her about what he did in the war, hinted at it yes, but never came out in the clear and told her what he had done, how many people he killed, what he suffered through, no, he kept it all bottled up. Sure, he wrote letters to mother and her, before mother’s passing of course, but he never alluded to the travesties he experienced. Hell, she didn’t even know really, where he had traveled to. Most of the letters they received were dotted with black ink blots concealing his location or key information; an obvious attempt by the military to prevent giving away troop locations were those letters to fall into the wrong hands.
Is watching movie with bf rn :3 but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about that!
<Snipped quote by MacabreFox>



Couldn't resist dem Oprah memes tho. But a cookie from Putin is well earned... right?

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