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Everything posted by Topher Lydon
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You do not pull on a Coyote's tail and expect to remain unbitten.
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fixed it
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I forgot to set the autocorrect like I do for most names I will fix soon
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The sheep war, from what I have been reading, was brutal. Both sides clashing, and the law just didn't want to get involved. Often times completely ignoring the complaints of the Shepards in favour of the rich industrialists and bankers that were backing the cattlemen. Alvarez saying no shows the positive effect that Devon is having on him.
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Ch08 The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on the rutted, drying mud of Lanternlight’s main avenue, baking the earth into a hard, cracked crust that threatened to turn to dust with the next stiff breeze. Inside the Lemon Saloon, the heat was stifling, trapped beneath the stamped-tin ceiling and the massive, unlit crystal chandeliers. The vast, cavernous room was entirely empty of patrons, a rare hour of silence before the evening rush would inevitably bring the cowboys, m
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Bottomless MUGS for ALL!
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It's more that Seb looks like a rough infantry man fresh from the desert before, after he's clean shaven, styled and looking like a Lord. So in a way, yes, but not specifically for Baldwin.
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Hairdresser's can go on crusade too I mean, someone has to do Erik's roots! That, and our heroes were about as subtle as bricks.
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The morning sun was already baking the marble of the Fondaco when the timid knock came at the heavy oak door. Séb was instantly on his feet, Lord Hugh’s broadsword half-drawn. Erik melted into the shadows near the balcony, an arrow nocked to the Fatimid recurve bow in a single, fluid motion. Amicie, entirely exhausted from the adrenaline crash of the previous night, simply sighed and went to the door. She cracked it open. A terrified Genoese servant stood there, visibly trembling, ho
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It's funny, I am in a legal dispute at the moment with a town council. Where they had the nerve to demand I stop using AI to formulate my letters. I am a former United Nations Civil Servant, Canadian Government Civil Servant, and a Professor of Communications. I responded by telling them that I don't need AI to write a letter. He'd much rather people write him angry unstructured letters so he can easily dismiss them as being "Emotional" Boy did he pick the wrong person to annoy.
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Although its origin may go back to Ancient Greece, the personal table fork was most likely invented in the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire, where they were in common use by the 4th century.[6][7] Records show that by the 9th century in some elite circles of Persia a similar utensil known as a barjyn was in limited use.[8] By the 10th century, the table fork was in common use throughout the Middle East.[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fork
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It's hard when it's someone with that level of history. People wander back to toxic relationships because of the familiar. Alvarez has made no move towards his intentions. Heck he hasn't even admitted he views Devon as anything more than a friend at this point. And along comes a boy who's professing love, that Devon's been in love with, reaching for him... I've been there, and it is amazing how many lies you're willing to tell yourself just to hold on to that one string of connection. I think, had Alvarez not been so... complacent, things would be very different. He deserves to be challenged.
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Maybe now, Alvarez will actually stop hiding and lying to himself, and do something about it.
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Ch07 The night air hanging over the Elder's massive, sprawling farmhouse was thick with the pastoral quiet of the boundary. The winter snows had long since melted into the spring thaw, leaving the vast, unbroken grazing pastures rich and green. In the holding pens near the tree line, hundreds of sheep huddled together in the dark, a sprawling sea of pale wool representing the community’s wealth and their quiet defiance of the English world's encroaching cattle trade.
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He's got a way with words that would make a sailor blush
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Every time I revisit the barn, I try to show the unreliable nature of memory. Each remembers it subtly different. Each person tries to justify a different way, to shift blame and like any crime, things twist. One of Jeb's key flaws is that he won't accept responsibility for his actions, and he lies. Understandable considering the times, the religious community, the reactions of the community show why he did it. (I wholly agree, it was wrong, but fear is powerful, as is judgement) Also swear away.
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Those two would circle each other like Alley Cats. There would be hissing, spitting, Ashot's haughty "Well my clients were satisfied!" And Dieter's: "Screw their satisfaction, mine paid double, I slapped them, and they paid more!" There'd be a moment Stephen was sure they'd knife each other... before they'd break down into grins, back slapping, and he'd find them later, drunk as skunks, Ashot hanging upside down from a table, and Dieter under it, snoring. The pair of them having become best friends.
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I was thinking, how would I distract people, and thought Get the most foul mouthed, catastrophic disaster of a Squire I could find, and make sure everyone is looking right at him.
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In case it isn't clear. Wylan has mistaken Erik, he feels something, but remember he's still recovering from Jerusalem. He still thinks Ishan is dead, and Erik is putting on the accent. So Wylan drew the only conclusion he could, that Erik was Atreus, Darien's son.
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The blue velvet doublet felt less like the raiment of a high lord and more like a beautifully tailored garrote. Between Amicie’s relentless, rapid-fire lectures on which silver fork to use for roasted pigeon and the suffocating, ever-present paranoia of waiting for the Count of Edessa to arrive in the city, Séb felt like his skin was crawling right off his muscles. The Genoese Fondaco was a marvel of imported marble, silk tapestries, and arched windows that caught the sea breeze, but to the
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I will cut it off and eat it like a Sausage, you @#$!#! Ahhh Dieter. Good morning
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Funny you should say that...
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You are right, Jeb has a huge uphill climb.
