As so few of you seem familiar with my fandom, I've taken the liberty of reading the first book for you. Seeing that most of you have short attention spans, I will keep the summary very brief.
bit⋅ter /ˈbɪtər/ [bit-er] -adjective [-er, -est] 1. having a harsh, disagreeably acrid taste, like that of aspirin, quinine, wormwood, or aloes. 2. producing one of the four basic taste sensations; not sour, sweet, or salt. 3. hard to bear; grievous; distressful: a bitter sorrow. 4. causing pain; piercing; stinging: a bitter chill. 5. characterized by intense antagonism or hostility: bitter hatred. 6. hard to admit or accept: a bitter lesson. 7. resentful or cynical: bitter words. -noun 8. that which is bitter; bitterness: Learn to take the bitter with the sweet. 9. British. a very dry ale having a strong taste of hops. -verb 10. to make bitter: herbs employed to bitter vermouth. -adverb 11. extremely; very; exceedingly: a bitter cold night.
Well, obviously. Judging by your tone, and our little conversation a few days ago, I'll take it this is a tragic story of one who has awoken in a time far ahead of his own.
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And stop that.
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Stop what? ♥
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Hmmph.
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/ˈbɪtər/ [bit-er]
-adjective [-er, -est]
1. having a harsh, disagreeably acrid taste, like that of aspirin, quinine, wormwood, or aloes.
2. producing one of the four basic taste sensations; not sour, sweet, or salt.
3. hard to bear; grievous; distressful: a bitter sorrow.
4. causing pain; piercing; stinging: a bitter chill.
5. characterized by intense antagonism or hostility: bitter hatred.
6. hard to admit or accept: a bitter lesson.
7. resentful or cynical: bitter words.
-noun
8. that which is bitter; bitterness: Learn to take the bitter with the sweet.
9. British. a very dry ale having a strong taste of hops.
-verb
10. to make bitter: herbs employed to bitter vermouth.
-adverb
11. extremely; very; exceedingly: a bitter cold night.
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Anyhow, I like the taste of quinine.
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A bitter drink for a bitter boy, then?
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I prefer something stronger, really.
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Trying to grow up so fast? It's true what they say-- Youth is wasted on the young.
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I'm not as young as I appear.
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Do tell.
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I'm a bit older.
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Well, obviously. Judging by your tone, and our little conversation a few days ago, I'll take it this is a tragic story of one who has awoken in a time far ahead of his own.
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Oh, no. I was in a time far from my own for a bit, but I've sorted that. Try again.
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Are you really going to make an old man such as myself guess? I may pass out from exhaustion.
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There isn't a story, really. I was dead, and then it stopped. That's all.
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