Whiskey sweet on the back of his tongue. Burning hell fire to the pit of his stomach. A feeling he hadn’t experienced for almost four hundred years. He’d learned to sleep in the intervening years from cycle to cycle, jump to jump. It was a dreaming sleep not unlike the sleep Hojo put him under so long ago, though he didn’t bother with a coffin. The
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Oh, btw! You changed layout! I like yellow and gold, they're cheerful.^^ Though, the white text is a bit of an eyesore, the black looks nicer. Also, the white clashes with the 'reply to this entry' line, which has a light pastel blue background. @.@
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I'll think about changing it again. I think the only thing that *won't* upset someone is fugly black and white.
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