Alala is sitting in a café sipping a latte as he gazes out the window. It’s raining, and the subtle pitter patter of the rain sets a nice relaxing mood, even against the muffled chatter of the other patrons. A half-eaten slice of cake sits on the table, along with another latte that appears to g̷͇̻͈͔̦̖̑̒͂̆̽̋̏̂͆̊̈́͘͝l̵̨͚̓̎̍̕͠ḯ̸̡̮̤̬͍̯͚̮̟̺͓̝͖͚͓́̍́̐̃̏̈́̂͘t̴̢̬͕̲̰̥̿͆̑̈́̓̔̕ç̷̦̳̝͇͓͎͔̹̒̿̽͘h̷͉͍̰̟̭͕̝̤̰̱̳͙͍̩͝ in and out… as does the chair across from him. It ᵽɨxɇłȺŧɇs and sɔɹɐɯqๅǝs, having some trouble staying in focus. Alala doesn't notice or, if he does, he doesn't make it obvious.
Eventually he turns toward the anomaly and speaks, tone occasionally distorting.
“I l̸̙͎͎̦͈͒̾̊i̶̛͓̤͚̝͎̮̫̻̤̯̖͙̼͔̺͖͍̠͕̠͉͍̼̲͉͖̰͍͇̠̩̅͐̈́̅̊̇͊̏̏̿̃̐́̊͌̈́̔̃͌̊̂̿͊̏̾́͒̉͛́̏́̈̂̂̂͗̂̐͂̋͑̅̒͘̚͝͠ͅͅk̷̡̡̡̘̟̼͎̟͎̫̪̘̭̹͈͚̯͖̠͇̲̟͙͎̪̼͕͍͙͉̜̦̞͍͖̓̉̿́͐̊̐̌̇̾́͆́̽̉̅̐̑̓͘͜͜͝͠͝͝e̴̢̡̡̧̢̨̛̛̦͉̲̭̱̝͎͔͎̦̜̞̱̩̲͍̞͚͈͔̲̗͓͉͇̫̖̝̯̙͍̤̭̜̠̟͂̇̒͆͐͛̈̉̈̓͌̊͐̈́̔̎̔̋͋̑́̅̅̏̽̾̾͑̌͌̓͊͌̚̚̕͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅ the rain.”
Alala is sitting at his computer streaming Phasmophobia when his cell phone rings ♫~*. "...no, but the EMF is going off in the basement. It's at a 4 and the Ouija Board is here to- oh! Hang on Į̸͓̳̳̐͌͂ ̵̬͎͖͑h̸̫̔̃̑a̶̤̍͛́͠v̴̳̬̪͉̾̅͛è̴̡̡̬ͅ ǎ̸̢̛̙̟͇͍̞͍̝͉͙͒ ̷̮̠̙̙͓̽̋c̸̜̀̋̓̈̕͠ě̷̡̥͙͍̥̼͕̠͝l̸̢̛̮̝̲͓̩̤̂̓͑̍̚͠l̸̛͚̇͊̒̀̒̄͆͂̚̕͜p̴̨̛̬̥̝̉̊̈́̃͛̈́̄̏̂̓͆̐͐̉͐̋͘͘̚͝͠h̶̼͙̙̞̣̝͐͐̄̄͋͊̐͋͗̓̽́͑̇̏̕͘͝õ̷̧̡̤͈̪̻̪̽́̾͂͠n̷͖̮̟̯̰̭̦̫̫̤̤͚̣̦͎͓̓̃̊̿̃̏͗̚̚͜͝͝e̵̛̗͂̍̆̾͋͑̒̿̈́̿̈́͝͝͝͠ͅͅ ̶̡̫̦͎̟̲̗̭̱̲͔̝̦͕͕̠̤̱́̒̉̈́͗̾͗̄ç̴̼̪͍͚̗̉͗͆͜a̶̢̢̠̞̘̯̲͖̫̪͖͌͐̎̊̄͝l̵̩̦͚͋͑̈̏̉̾̒̇͘͜͠l̶̨͇̙̮͕̟̰͐̑͂̿̽̆̿͜͝ͅͅ ..." He grabs the phone off the edge of the desk, glancing at the name that reads ⃫o⃫ɹ⃫ᴉ⃫ɥ⃫s.
He answers, but no words come out, instead it's just static. Like a record the memory starts skipping... until finally it resets ↺ and it's back to the beginning.
Alala is sitting at his computer streaming Phasmophobia when his cell phone rings ♪~. "...no, but the EMF is going off in the basement. It's at a 5̷͍̉̕ and the S̷u̶m̴m̸o̴n̵i̶n̴g̴ ̷C̵i̶r̸c̶l̶e̷ is here to- oh! Hang on I ̵̬͎͖͑hav̴̳̬̪͉̾̅͛è̴̡̡̬ͅ a̸͔͖̜͙͈͉͑̆̆͌ ̵̲̉̎̓̎̆͒c̸̩̱̜̀̉̏͗̐͠ĕ̴̤̠͉̜̠ͅl̵͍͎̈̎͋̄̕l̸͖̫̠͗̂̚ p̸͖̳̿̕͝h̷̪̝̝̪̙̺̍͐͆̈́̍̚o̶̪̞̠̐̽̊n̶̮̮̮̊̂͊͑͑̓e̴͖̝͈̺̠͚͙͛." He hesitantly reaches for the phone on the edge of the desk, fingers twitching as he tries to decide whether or not to pick it up, but as soon as he catches sight of the name, ⃫o⃫ɹ⃫ᴉ⃫ɥ⃫s, he slams his hand down onto the screen. "NNNNNeverm̸̞̅i̴͚̒n̵̗̄d̷̳̾."
It starts skipping again and then it's back to the beginning with another reset ↺.
Alala is sitting at his computer streaming Phasmophobia listening to ♫~♪~ on a cute pink radio. "...no, but the EMF is going off in the basement. It's at a 4 and the S̷u̶m̴m̸o̴n̵i̶n̴g̴ ̷C̵i̶r̸c̶l̶e̷ is here to- oh! Hang on I..." He hesitates, his eyes drifting to an empty corner of his desk. "I'm still here, sorry. But, ah, hey! can somebody grab the Lighter from the truck... let's summon ꋫ ꁕꍟꁒꆂꁹ the ghost."
( *Note; Link is to a HIP meme featuring a demon, but because it's got a few gore-y arts in it I'm putting a warning. It's incredibly colorful and not overly detailed, but just be mindful if you choose to click. )
It’s a day in the life of Alala during his residency at the hospital. He’s more down to Earth and focused than he is now. Not nearly as animated, hyperactive, and rambunctious. It should be noted that most of the people around him do not have ears, tails, or flames. He sees a few here and there, but that’s because, as an Ashuri, he can see through Glamour. He's shadowing one of them, a surgeon, and it seems like he idolizes them, as he's hanging off of their every word like a starry-eyed fanboy. It's unclear if this is because he has a crush on them or a crush on medicine... or both. But, really, this is just a relatively normal day for Alala.
Alala must have lost consciousness at some point, because the memory starts with him coming to… covered in blood and laying among a number of dead bodies – some intact, others đɨsɇmƀøwɇłɇđ. He’s dizzy and, as a result, nauseous, his entire body feeling like it’s on fire… but that may be a result of the noxious fog that’s shrouding the texas chainsaw massacre. A few speckles of gold shimmer here and there, sparkling brightly despite the thick haze in an almost mesmerizing fashion, …a shame it’s not enough to distract from the guttural growl that instantly fills him with an overwhelming sense of ÐЯΣAÐ, but there's no turning back now - Ո૦ Ր૯૭Ր૯੮ς.
A deep tone booms from within the oppressive murk, “ʇ̸̛͔s̸̥̽ǝ̴̨͇͆ ̴͈̊͘ɐ̷̻̰̒̒ʇ̷̟̬́͝ɔ̷̺̚ɐ̵͚̈́ᴉ̴͕̖͝ ̶̳̍͋͜ɐ̵̞̣͂ǝ̵̧̹͆l̵̝̻͊̕∀̸̞́̍.” At that his body burns hotter and hotter, so much so that he swears his blood has got to be boiling. It feels like he's about to spontaneously combust, but before he can go up in flames everything goes black and he passes out.
Alala is pacing backstage at some kind of outdoor music festival. He's nervous, real nervous, and that's the reason for it. Don't worry, comes a smooth baritone voice, It's going to be fine. All you need to do... is sing. Alala pauses, shivering, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He knows that's all he's got to do, but this is the first time he's doing it on this big of a scale. He’s performed at a few clubs here and there, small venues, but this different, bigger, …and he knows that the shit’s going to hit the fan.
"...yeah, I know." He mumbles under his breath to... no one in particular. Himself, really. A woman appears from off to the side to let him know that he'll be going on in five minutes. Alala promptly smiles, giving her an enthusiastic nod. "mKay!" But as soon as she's out of sight it drops and he sighs. He shuts his eyes, taking a few to psyche himself up. He can do this. He needs to do this.
It's showtime.
A few minutes later and Alala is bouncing out onto the stage, the music swelling as he starts to sing and dance. He performs spectacularly - putting on one hell of a fun show! Alala's dedicated fans are already gathered around the small stage, but it’s not long before he starts drawing even more of a crowd.
But that's when things start to get a little strange. Alala colored threads appear from the hearts of the people in the crowd, slithering toward and tethering to him. It starts out as just a couple, but then it’s almost everybody and Alala’s smile widens… and it’s hard to tell if he's about to lose his mind ( positive ) or lose his mind ( negative ).
It all becomes clear when the sky darkens - ironic - a demon manifesting overhead and pulling the threads through Alala, causing them to turn from pink&blue to black. Alala wavers when this happens, words slurring as he brings a hand to his face. A bit of necrosis like rot creeps out of the tattoo on his stomach which is about when he collapses, the music continuing to play… all of the threads becoming infected and causing an immediate panic. Screams rise above the song as tens of hundreds people drop.
It ends there… with Alala eventually waking in a hospital bed to a news report saying that hundreds of people got sick at the festival, with dozens even dying. Alala turns onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest to stare at the wall, hysteric laughter turning into hysteric crying as the darkness appears and eventually descends on him like a blanket.
“…stay.” He murmurs to himself ( ??? ) as he twists his fingers in its thick & fleshy coils, tugging.
It opens in a gentleman's club. Alala's dressed pretty scandalously, but that is kind of the idea. He's dead set on making money, lots and lots, because he's got to fund ( and fuel ) his newest obsession. He's in the middle of a pole dancing performance on stage, …one that’s as flamboyant as he is. Finishing up Alala takes a bow, quickly scanning the front of the stage to find that a nice chunk of change had been thrown his way - awesome! It's a shame that this is only the first half of the night, because he would absolutely have loved to fucken bail on the second half.
Alala takes his leave of the stage and heads into the back for a brief break. He uses it to freshen up, but more importantly he grabs his phone and pulls up a list of books. A few stand out titles are: the Legacy of a Lifelong Curse, Ashuri History, A Look Into the Past, Kindling the Soul's Flame, Divinity 4nd their Elements, & Blood Magic, the Rituals of Live Sacrifice and the Taboo of Self Depreciation. Some have check marks next to their names, but others have outrageous numbers beside them ( some well into the thousands ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, so with what I had put aside I should be able to get another one." He seems delighted by this. "And if I..." But then he sighs, his excitement tapering. "If I play my cards right, then I may even be able to get a second." He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to hype himself up. "Just a few more nights, alright, you got this, come on, I know you got this..." He nods to himself a couple of times, smiling as he does so. "I got this." Alala states firmly, his vigor renewed, so he hastily stashes his phone and heads back out into the club.
Alala is pulled aside quickly – a rough tug landing him in the lap of a rich philanthropist. As much as he’d like to snap at him for being so fucken rough, this is what the second of the night entails – a more hands on experience for both himself and their wealthy clientele. He’s just something to show off, grope, and occasionally order around. He grins and bears it, because it’s what he’s paid to do…
A few hours in and he’s managed to disassociate, though he gets a slap to the face to snap him back to reality. Alala blinks, bringing a hand to his reddening cheek.
“I'm not paying you to space out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very close friend of mine, so fix your face, straight up, and smile *real* pretty." He makes a motion toward the entrance of the club, a distorted figure standing there among a couple of others. "█████, this is ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As the distorted figure takes a step forward it tears a swirling vortex in the room, one that sucks everything into it, and then the entire memory fades to black.
It opens̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in a gentleman's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ club. Alala's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ed pretty s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗candalous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ly, but that is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ kind of the idea. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dead s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗et on making money, lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ got to fund ( and fuel ) his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ newes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t obs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ion. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in the middle of a pole dancing performance on s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage, …one that’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ flamboyant as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. Finis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hing up Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a bow, quickly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗canning the front of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage to find that a nice chunk of change had been thrown his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ way - awes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome! It's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hame that this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ only the firs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t half of the night, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he would abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗olutely have loved to fucken bail on the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd half.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ into the back for a brief break. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but more importantly he grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out titles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: the Legacy of a Lifelong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huri His̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look Into the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kindling the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Divinity 4nd their Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magic, the Rituals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Live s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrifice and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depreciation. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to their names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well into the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o with what I had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide I s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delighted by this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And if I..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ighs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excitement tapering. "If I play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ right, then I may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, trying to hype hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nights̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alright, you got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, I know you got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of times̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗miling as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "I got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ firmly, his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vigor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tily s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out into the club.
Alala is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide quickly – a rough tug landing him in the lap of a rich philanthropis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d like to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at him for being s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rough, this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the night entails̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experience for both hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and their wealthy clientele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omething to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ionally order around. He grins̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e it’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paid to do…
A few hours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ociate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap him back to reality. Alala blinks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, bringing a hand to his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddening cheek.
“I'm not paying you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e friend of mine, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fix your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traight up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mile *real* pretty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motion toward the entrance of the club, a dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tanding there among a couple of others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward it tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wirling vortex in the room, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everything into it, and then the entire memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
It opens̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in a gentleman's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ club. Alala's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ed pretty s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗candalous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ly, but tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ kind of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e idea. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dead s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗et on making money, lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ got to fund ( and fuel ) ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ newes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t obs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ion. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e middle of a pole dancing performance on s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage, …one tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ flamboyant as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. Finis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ing up Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a bow, quickly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗canning tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e front of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage to find tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at a nice cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝unk of cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ange ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ad been tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝rown ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ way - awes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome! It's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ame tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ only tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e firs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝alf of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e nigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e would abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗olutely ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ave loved to fucken bail on tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝alf.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e back for a brief break. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en up, but more importantly ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝one and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out titles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Legacy of a Lifelong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝uri ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look Into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kindling tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Divinity 4nd tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magic, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Rituals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Live s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrifice and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depreciation. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ave cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eck marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but otḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ave outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝em ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o witḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at I ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ad put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide I s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ould be able to get anotḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝er one." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ deligḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ted by tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And if I..." But tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗igḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excitement tapering. "If I play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ rigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en I may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝uts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breatḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, trying to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ype ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alrigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t, you got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, I know you got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of times̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗miling as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "I got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ firmly, ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vigor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tily s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝one and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e club.
Alala is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide quickly – a rougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ tug landing ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im in tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e lap of a ricḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ilantḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ropis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ mucḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’d like to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im for being s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e nigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t entails̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experience for botḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir wealtḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝y clientele. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ometḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ing to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ow off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ionally order around. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e grins̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e it’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paid to do…
A few ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ociate, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im back to reality. Alala blinks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, bringing a ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝and to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddening cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eek.
“I'm not paying you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e friend of mine, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fix your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mile *real* pretty." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motion toward tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e entrance of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e club, a dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tanding tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ere among a couple of otḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward it tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wirling vortex in tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e room, one tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everytḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ing into it, and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e entire memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t opens̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n a gentleman's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ club. Alala's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ed pretty s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗candalous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ly, but that ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd of the ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝dea. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dead s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗et on makȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng money, lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ got to fund ( and fuel ) hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ newes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t obs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ddle of a pole dancȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng performance on s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage, …one that’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ flamboyant as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. Fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng up Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a bow, quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗cannȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the front of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage to fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd that a nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce chunk of change had been thrown hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ way - awes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome! ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hame that thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ only the fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝rs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t half of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he would abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗olutely have loved to fucken baȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝l on the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd half.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the back for a brȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef break. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but more ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mportantly he grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: the Legacy of a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hurȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the Rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Deprecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t looked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taperȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tryȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alrȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ know you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝rmly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a rough tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap of a rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthropȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m for beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rough, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence for both hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omethȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝onally order around. He grȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d to do…
A few hours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ocȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back to realȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, brȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m not payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want to ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntroduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e frȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end of mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *real* pretty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on toward the entrance of the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng there among a couple of others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝rlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vortex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the room, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝re memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t opens̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n a gentleman's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ club. Alala's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ed pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗candalous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ly, but that ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd of the ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝dea. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dead s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗et on makȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng money, lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and lots̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ got to fund ( and fuel ) hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ newes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t obs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ddle of a pole dancȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng per̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mance on s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage, …one that’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ flamboyant as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. Fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng up Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a bow, quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗cannȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ont of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage to fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd that a nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce chunk of change had been thr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝own hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ way - awes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome! ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hame that thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ only the fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t half of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he would abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗olutely have loved to fucken baȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝l on the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd half.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the back for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ a br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eak. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t to fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mpor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tantly he gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e: the Legacy of a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felong Cur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y, A Look ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check mar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but other̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ number̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t looked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my car̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝yȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ know you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝enewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ough tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap of a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝opȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ough, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on exper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ both hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omethȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝onally or̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝der̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ound. He gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d to do…
A few hour̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ocȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back to r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ealȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m not payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝umble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want to ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝oduce you to a ver̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end of mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x your̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝aȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eal* pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on towar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d the entr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ance of the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e among a couple of other̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝oom, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ever̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e memor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜pens̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n a gentleman's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ club. Alala's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ed pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗candalơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ly, but that ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝dea. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ dead s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗et ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n makȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ney, lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fund ( and fuel ) hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ newes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜bs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n. He's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ddle ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f a pơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜le dancȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng per̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mance ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage, …ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne that’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ flambơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜yant as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. Fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng up Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a bơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜w, quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗cannȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nt ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nd that a nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce chunk ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f change had been thr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜wn hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ way - awes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me! ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hame that thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nly the fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t half ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e he wơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uld abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜lutely have lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ved tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fucken baȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝l ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ecơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nd half.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the back fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ a br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eak. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mpơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tantly he gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f bơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e: the Legacy ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ng Cur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y, A Lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜k ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜d Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Tabơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me have check mar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜utr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ageơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ number̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the thơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t a decent amơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜unt, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uld be able tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ get anơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my car̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ecơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝yȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ knơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜w yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uple ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he dơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝enewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜pȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fucken r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ecơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nd ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n exper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ bơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜th hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜methȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜w ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ff, gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜pe, and ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ccas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nally ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝der̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜und. He gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ dơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜…
A few hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜cȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, thơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the face tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ealȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m nơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut." A gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝umble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜duce yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ a ver̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y clơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝aȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eal* pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d the entr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ance ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e amơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ng a cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uple ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜m, ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ever̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e memơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ black.
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memory 01 - coffee shop.
Eventually he turns toward the anomaly and speaks, tone occasionally distorting.
“I l̸̙͎͎̦͈͒̾̊i̶̛͓̤͚̝͎̮̫̻̤̯̖͙̼͔̺͖͍̠͕̠͉͍̼̲͉͖̰͍͇̠̩̅͐̈́̅̊̇͊̏̏̿̃̐́̊͌̈́̔̃͌̊̂̿͊̏̾́͒̉͛́̏́̈̂̂̂͗̂̐͂̋͑̅̒͘̚͝͠ͅͅk̷̡̡̡̘̟̼͎̟͎̫̪̘̭̹͈͚̯͖̠͇̲̟͙͎̪̼͕͍͙͉̜̦̞͍͖̓̉̿́͐̊̐̌̇̾́͆́̽̉̅̐̑̓͘͜͜͝͠͝͝e̴̢̡̡̧̢̨̛̛̦͉̲̭̱̝͎͔͎̦̜̞̱̩̲͍̞͚͈͔̲̗͓͉͇̫̖̝̯̙͍̤̭̜̠̟͂̇̒͆͐͛̈̉̈̓͌̊͐̈́̔̎̔̋͋̑́̅̅̏̽̾̾͑̌͌̓͊͌̚̚̕͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅ the rain.”
The memory jumps back a bit ↺.
"I l- l- l- l- ḷ̶͍̀ȋ̶͕k̴͉͇̦̿ͅĕ̵͕̃̇̍ the rain."
Once again, the memory jumps back a bit ↺.
"I hα†ε the rain."
memory 02 - ghost hunting.
He answers, but no words come out, instead it's just static. Like a record the memory starts skipping... until finally it resets ↺ and it's back to the beginning.
Alala is sitting at his computer streaming Phasmophobia when his cell phone rings ♪~. "...no, but the EMF is going off in the basement. It's at a 5̷͍̉̕ and the S̷u̶m̴m̸o̴n̵i̶n̴g̴ ̷C̵i̶r̸c̶l̶e̷ is here to- oh! Hang on I ̵̬͎͖͑hav̴̳̬̪͉̾̅͛è̴̡̡̬ͅ a̸͔͖̜͙͈͉͑̆̆͌ ̵̲̉̎̓̎̆͒c̸̩̱̜̀̉̏͗̐͠ĕ̴̤̠͉̜̠ͅl̵͍͎̈̎͋̄̕l̸͖̫̠͗̂̚ p̸͖̳̿̕͝h̷̪̝̝̪̙̺̍͐͆̈́̍̚o̶̪̞̠̐̽̊n̶̮̮̮̊̂͊͑͑̓e̴͖̝͈̺̠͚͙͛." He hesitantly reaches for the phone on the edge of the desk, fingers twitching as he tries to decide whether or not to pick it up, but as soon as he catches sight of the name, ⃫o⃫ɹ⃫ᴉ⃫ɥ⃫s, he slams his hand down onto the screen. "NNNNNeverm̸̞̅i̴͚̒n̵̗̄d̷̳̾."
It starts skipping again and then it's back to the beginning with another reset ↺.
Alala is sitting at his computer streaming Phasmophobia listening to ♫~♪~ on a cute pink radio. "...no, but the EMF is going off in the basement. It's at a 4 and the S̷u̶m̴m̸o̴n̵i̶n̴g̴ ̷C̵i̶r̸c̶l̶e̷ is here to- oh! Hang on I..." He hesitates, his eyes drifting to an empty corner of his desk. "I'm still here, sorry. But, ah, hey! can somebody grab the Lighter from the truck... let's summon
ꋫ ꁕꍟꁒꆂꁹthe ghost."( *Note; Link is to a HIP meme featuring a demon, but because it's got a few gore-y arts in it I'm putting a warning. It's incredibly colorful and not overly detailed, but just be mindful if you choose to click. )
memory 03 - residency.
memory 04 - ???
texas chainsawmassacre. A few speckles of gold shimmer here and there, sparkling brightly despite the thick haze in an almost mesmerizing fashion, …a shame it’s not enough to distract from the guttural growl that instantly fills him with an overwhelming sense of ÐЯΣAÐ, but there's no turning back now - Ո૦ Ր૯૭Ր૯੮ς.A deep tone booms from within the oppressive murk, “ʇ̸̛͔s̸̥̽ǝ̴̨͇͆ ̴͈̊͘ɐ̷̻̰̒̒ʇ̷̟̬́͝ɔ̷̺̚ɐ̵͚̈́ᴉ̴͕̖͝ ̶̳̍͋͜ɐ̵̞̣͂ǝ̵̧̹͆l̵̝̻͊̕∀̸̞́̍.” At that his body burns hotter and hotter, so much so that he swears his blood has got to be boiling. It feels like he's about to spontaneously combust, but before he can go up in flames everything goes black and he passes out.
memory 05 - concert.
"...yeah, I know." He mumbles under his breath to... no one in particular. Himself, really. A woman appears from off to the side to let him know that he'll be going on in five minutes. Alala promptly smiles, giving her an enthusiastic nod. "mKay!" But as soon as she's out of sight it drops and he sighs. He shuts his eyes, taking a few to psyche himself up. He can do this. He needs to do this.
It's showtime.
A few minutes later and Alala is bouncing out onto the stage, the music swelling as he starts to sing and dance. He performs spectacularly - putting on one hell of a fun show! Alala's dedicated fans are already gathered around the small stage, but it’s not long before he starts drawing even more of a crowd.
But that's when things start to get a little strange. Alala colored threads appear from the hearts of the people in the crowd, slithering toward and tethering to him. It starts out as just a couple, but then it’s almost everybody and Alala’s smile widens… and it’s hard to tell if he's about to lose his mind ( positive ) or lose his mind ( negative ).
It all becomes clear when the sky darkens - ironic - a demon manifesting overhead and pulling the threads through Alala, causing them to turn from pink&blue to black. Alala wavers when this happens, words slurring as he brings a hand to his face. A bit of necrosis like rot creeps out of the tattoo on his stomach which is about when he collapses, the music continuing to play… all of the threads becoming infected and causing an immediate panic. Screams rise above the song as tens of hundreds people drop.
It ends there… with Alala eventually waking in a hospital bed to a news report saying that hundreds of people got sick at the festival, with dozens even dying. Alala turns onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest to stare at the wall, hysteric laughter turning into hysteric crying as the darkness appears and eventually descends on him like a blanket.
“…stay.” He murmurs to himself ( ??? ) as he twists his fingers in its thick & fleshy coils, tugging.
memory 06 -
Alala takes his leave of the stage and heads into the back for a brief break. He uses it to freshen up, but more importantly he grabs his phone and pulls up a list of books. A few stand out titles are: the Legacy of a Lifelong Curse, Ashuri History, A Look Into the Past, Kindling the Soul's Flame, Divinity 4nd their Elements, & Blood Magic, the Rituals of Live Sacrifice and the Taboo of Self Depreciation. Some have check marks next to their names, but others have outrageous numbers beside them ( some well into the thousands ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, so with what I had put aside I should be able to get another one." He seems delighted by this. "And if I..." But then he sighs, his excitement tapering. "If I play my cards right, then I may even be able to get a second." He shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to hype himself up. "Just a few more nights, alright, you got this, come on, I know you got this..." He nods to himself a couple of times, smiling as he does so. "I got this." Alala states firmly, his vigor renewed, so he hastily stashes his phone and heads back out into the club.
Alala is pulled aside quickly – a rough tug landing him in the lap of a rich philanthropist. As much as he’d like to snap at him for being so fucken rough, this is what the second of the night entails – a more hands on experience for both himself and their wealthy clientele. He’s just something to show off, grope, and occasionally order around. He grins and bears it, because it’s what he’s paid to do…
A few hours in and he’s managed to disassociate, though he gets a slap to the face to snap him back to reality. Alala blinks, bringing a hand to his reddening cheek.
“I'm not paying you to space out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very close friend of mine, so fix your face, straight up, and smile *real* pretty." He makes a motion toward the entrance of the club, a distorted figure standing there among a couple of others. "█████, this is ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As the distorted figure takes a step forward it tears a swirling vortex in the room, one that sucks everything into it, and then the entire memory fades to black.
replay 01.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ into the back for a brief break. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but more importantly he grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out titles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: the Legacy of a Lifelong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huri His̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look Into the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kindling the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Divinity 4nd their Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magic, the Rituals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Live s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrifice and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depreciation. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to their names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well into the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o with what I had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide I s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delighted by this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And if I..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ighs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excitement tapering. "If I play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ right, then I may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, trying to hype hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nights̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alright, you got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, I know you got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of times̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗miling as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "I got this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ firmly, his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vigor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tily s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out into the club.
Alala is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide quickly – a rough tug landing him in the lap of a rich philanthropis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d like to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at him for being s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rough, this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the night entails̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experience for both hims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and their wealthy clientele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omething to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ionally order around. He grins̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e it’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paid to do…
A few hours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ociate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap him back to reality. Alala blinks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, bringing a hand to his̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddening cheek.
“I'm not paying you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e friend of mine, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fix your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traight up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mile *real* pretty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motion toward the entrance of the club, a dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tanding there among a couple of others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, this̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward it tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wirling vortex in the room, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everything into it, and then the entire memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
replay 02.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e back for a brief break. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en up, but more importantly ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝one and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out titles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Legacy of a Lifelong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝uri ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look Into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kindling tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Divinity 4nd tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magic, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Rituals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Live s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrifice and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depreciation. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ave cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eck marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but otḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ave outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝em ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"It looked like I got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o witḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at I ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ad put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide I s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ould be able to get anotḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝er one." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ deligḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ted by tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And if I..." But tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗igḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excitement tapering. "If I play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ rigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en I may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝uts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breatḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, trying to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ype ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alrigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t, you got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, I know you got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of times̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗miling as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "I got tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ firmly, ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vigor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tily s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝one and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out into tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e club.
Alala is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ide quickly – a rougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ tug landing ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im in tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e lap of a ricḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ pḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ilantḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ropis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ mucḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’d like to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im for being s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e nigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t entails̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experience for botḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ims̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eir wealtḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝y clientele. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ometḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ing to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ow off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ionally order around. ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e grins̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ it, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e it’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ wḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paid to do…
A few ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ in and ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ociate, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ougḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝im back to reality. Alala blinks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, bringing a ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝and to ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddening cḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝eek.
“I'm not paying you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "I want to introduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e friend of mine, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fix your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traigḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝t up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mile *real* pretty." ḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motion toward tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e entrance of tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e club, a dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tanding tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ere among a couple of otḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ is̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e dis̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted figure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward it tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wirling vortex in tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e room, one tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝at s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everytḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝ing into it, and tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝en tḥ̵̦̤̪̌͒̑͜͝e entire memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
replay 03.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the back for a brȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef break. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t to fres̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but more ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mportantly he grabs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ are: the Legacy of a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felong Curs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hurȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tory, A Look ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the Rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acrȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Deprecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check marks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outrageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ numbers̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t looked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taperȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my cards̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep breaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tryȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few more nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alrȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ know you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝rmly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gor renewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a rough tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap of a rȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthropȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m for beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken rough, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a more hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on experȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence for both hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omethȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, grope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝onally order around. He grȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d to do…
A few hours̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ocȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back to realȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, brȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ reddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m not payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A grumble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want to ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntroduce you to a very clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e frȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end of mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x your face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗traȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *real* pretty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on toward the entrance of the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gure s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng there among a couple of others̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗torted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gure takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep forward ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tears̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝rlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vortex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the room, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ everythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝re memory fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
replay 04.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave of the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the back for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ a br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eak. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t to fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mpor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tantly he gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t of books̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand out tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e: the Legacy of a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felong Cur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y, A Look ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗oul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blood Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ of Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Taboo of s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome have check mar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next to theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but other̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have outr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ageous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ number̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ome well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the thous̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t looked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got a decent amount, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hould be able to get another̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ one." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my car̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able to get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝yȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, come on, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ know you got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nods̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a couple of tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he does̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ got thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝enewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phone and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back out ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ough tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap of a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝opȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fucken r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ough, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗econd of the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a mor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ on exper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ both hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗omethȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗how off, gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ope, and occas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝onally or̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝der̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ound. He gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d to do…
A few hour̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed to dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ocȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, though he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap to the face to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back to r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ealȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand to hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m not payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng you to s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace out." A gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝umble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want to ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝oduce you to a ver̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y clos̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end of mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗o fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x your̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝aȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eal* pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a motȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝on towar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d the entr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ance of the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e among a couple of other̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep for̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝oom, one that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ever̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nto ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e memor̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ to black.
replay 05.
Alala takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ leave ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tage and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the back fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ a br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ef br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eak. He us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hen up, but mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mpơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tantly he gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝abs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne and pulls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ up a lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f bơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. A few s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tand ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tles̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e: the Legacy ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f a Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝felơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ng Cur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e, As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ Hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y, A Lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜k ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the Pas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t, Kȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ndlȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ul's̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ Flame, Dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty 4nd theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ Elements̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, & Blơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜d Magȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝c, the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tuals̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f Lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ve s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗acr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ce and the Tabơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf Depr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ecȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝atȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n. s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me have check mar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ next tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ names̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, but ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ have ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜utr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ageơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ number̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ bes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de them ( s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me well ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the thơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜us̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ).
"ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t lơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ked lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t a decent amơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜unt, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝th what ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ had put as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uld be able tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ get anơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗eems̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ delȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghted by thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "And ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝..." But then he s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghs̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ excȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝tement taper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝f ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ play my car̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, then ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ may even be able tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ get a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ecơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nd." He s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗huts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ eyes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a few deep br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eaths̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝yȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hype hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf up. "Jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t a few mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ghts̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, alr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght, yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜me ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n, ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ knơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜w yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗..." He nơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ds̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf a cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uple ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝mes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he dơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜es̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗." Alala s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tates̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝mly, hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ vȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝enewed, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ he has̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ly s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ phơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne and heads̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ back ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the club.
Alala ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ pulled as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝de quȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ckly – a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh tug landȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the lap ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f a r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ch phȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝lanthr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜pȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t. As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ much as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ he’d lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ke tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap at hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ beȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fucken r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what the s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ecơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nd ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the nȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght entaȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ls̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ – a mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e hands̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n exper̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ence fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ bơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜th hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ms̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗elf and theȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ wealthy clȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝entele. He’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ jus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗t s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜methȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜w ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ff, gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜pe, and ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ccas̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜nally ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝der̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ ar̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜und. He gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ns̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ and bear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, becaus̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ what he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ paȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝d tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ dơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜…
A few hơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n and he’s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ managed tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗as̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜cȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ate, thơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ugh he gets̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗lap tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ the face tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗nap hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝m back tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ealȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ty. Alala blȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝nks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗, br̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ngȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng a hand tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ hȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eddenȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng cheek.
“ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝'m nơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜t payȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗pace ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ut." A gr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝umble. "ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ want tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜duce yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜u tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ a ver̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y clơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗e fr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝end ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ne, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝x yơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ face, s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝aȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ght up, and s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗mȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝le *r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝eal* pr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝etty." He makes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a mơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜tȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜n tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d the entr̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ance ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f the club, a dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tandȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e amơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ng a cơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜uple ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜f ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ther̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗. "█████, thȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ̷⃫̸̡̤̤̩͉̙͚̠͙̣̘̮̜̘̮͚͉͋̂͂̔͑̉͛́͘o̵⃫̵̱̣͚͖̍̈́͌̈́͋̉̄̉̔̌͐͊͂͑͐̽̆̎̑́͘͝ɹ̴⃫̴̨̛͇̥͉̺͔̣̗̠͉͙̞̤͍̩͔̉͌̀̄͋̕ᴉ̵⃫̵̧͖͈̲̦̦͇̺̻̙͎̮͎̲̫̻͖͖̹͔̝̘̑͑́̓̇̔̎̅̈́̾̐̉̀̇̈́̏̍̀͘̕͜͝ɥ̵⃫̶̺͓̠̻̒͂͑͐̎̈̈́̋͌̌͗́̈́̆s̷̗͉̋̂͊̈́̌̓͌͠..."
As̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ the dȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ted fȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝gur̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e takes̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗tep fơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝war̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝d ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t tear̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ a s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗wȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝lȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng vơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝tex ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝n the r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜m, ơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ne that s̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ucks̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ ever̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝ythȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ng ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝ntơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ ȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝t, and then the entȋ̷̛͇̳̥͇͔̫̩̩͇̎͘͝r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝e memơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜r̸̛̦̤͍̗̭̈̃́̄͒͛̄͝y fades̸̛̳̖͇͔̬̫͎̍̅̌͑͑͗ tơ̵͕̺̪̠̥̠̬̝͓̝̘̙̰̑͒́͋̀̒̎̓̾̉͜ black.