Justice here, justice there, justice every ~where. I think it went blind. I think we poked its eyes out.
I think - I think - I think.
And wings coming to bloom, O tisk, O now, O why - burning, burning, cutting, shredding, still burning. Do please. Kiss-kiss,
your fault, all yours, do en~joy.
Mister Brocklehurst, you will do well to find us a
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Comments 167
[ OOC: HE DID NOT JUST SNEAK A CUPCAKE INTO HIS MOUTH WHEN FIORE WASN'T LOOKING, WUT? ]
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[ooc: IN WHICH ROSIEL IS GLARING ZOMG HOW DARE YOU CHEW WHEN HE TALKS.]
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[ OOC: NOM-NOM~! ]
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[ooc: UNACCEPTABLE CONDUCT.]
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Stay away from him or my hand, brother, will not waver.
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Aren't you...?
...shoulder blades.
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That hardly makes it my fault.
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Gentle gentleman hands, hmmmm...
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Non serviam, bright angel.
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An attribute you sorely lack in several respects.
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My thanks, Rosiel.
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Do let's not pretend you're utterlyoblivious for the total of five seconds requisite that you complete the task without asking for details?
It would be quite saddening for my subordinate not to have a complete network awareness.
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...and a judge, and a jury, and a verdict. And dearest Asher's cause, his sweet dame desirably unaware - we must exhibit some employee support, surely?
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