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Dear Character... Dear Brain, -- Deark Hawk, I just decided to kill you because you were sort of a pompus idiot who deserved to die. I apologize anyways, though. --Dear Serpent, Yes, yes, I remember deciding that I wanted Gunner to be your boyfriend but I changed my mind and now he's your brother so you have to stop hitting on him. It's weird. Love, The Author Current mood: Dear Jen: I'm really going to have fun writing you! Dear Jess; ditto! Dear Jo: It's going to be hard trying not to make you seem really stupid. Dear Mel: All your scenes are going to be hilarious, due to your general sluttiness. Niz xxx Current mood: Dear Thraxe: Wow. You're really adaptable. I think you're gonna work out in the new RP really well. ^n_n^ I'm looking forward to that. Dear Lawrence: I think you might work out well too, but we need to get a move on getting you developed. I think that'll be okay, though. Dear Ms. Blazer: .... Okay, who the heck are you? Work with me a little here; I'd like to know you. Yours, = your player. Dear Lairen: I blame you for Lawren's sudden existence. Well, that and the silly OOC thing I was gonna write for Eastern Weyr. Well, he'll fade into obscurity soon enough, I think. It's not like my writing actually goes anywhere. .... Don't look at me like that, either of you. You know it's true. (sigh) Look, Lawren, you can stay, and so can all the other people associated with you, but damn it, don't cause trouble. (another sigh) Oy vey. Yours, = the one at the keyboard. Dear everyone: Y'all pipe up with some pretty interesting stuff pretty often, though sometimes it makes me wonder if my mental health really is worse than believed. But it IS entertaining, and y'all give me someone to talk to when no one else is around, so I won't mind if you keep doing it- as long as Locke stays off the weed and Shaune never consumes another beer. ^n_n^ Yours, Your player. Current mood: Happy Birthday, old woman. Here's to many more. Dear Cormac Family and assorted friends Where the hell did you all go? Sincerely? I miss you, I miss talking with you all and figuring out where you came from, where you're going. Hoping you come back, The Author Dear Redhead Pain In My Ass, You are getting married. You said yes. Stop freaking out about it. Sincerely, Me. Dear Eionren of Eastern Weyr, and Doctor Christopher Tennyson Gallifrey of Naruta and his horse Tardis: Guys. Pals. Dudes.... How am I supposed to know what to do with you if you don't SPEAK UP? NARGH! (stomps around) Frustratedly yours, = M-F. ======== ( Read more... ) ( For the game dc_nation ) Sincerely, One of the people who's been trying to sort out the Titans for about 4 years. |
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