
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛; 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠, 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠, 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝐵𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛.
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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛; 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠, 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠, 𝑊𝒉𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝒉 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕, 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝐵𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛.


"Well...yeah...that's why I'm tryna get out more y'know?" She crossed her arms. "So...you know how t' make it or what?"

"Oi! We get our grub from synth ingredients stuffed into vending machines! I ain't used t' this organic shit yet-"

"What?! I ain't sayin' anythin' wrong!"


⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ . . . In my ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ, will 𝔂𝓸𝓾 be there .ᐣ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀


o' sweet sacrificial lamb.

