Aire de entretenimiento ante la irritación del nigromante.

"¿Y que hizo ahí?"

Pregunta. Casi deleitado por la presión. Por fin, alguien interesante.

"Oooh, claro. Claro."

Sonríe. Llevándose la mano a lo que un dia será una americana, para pescar la libreta de cuero amarillo, tomando nota con un dedo que, de alguna forma, deja un rastro de tinta.

Escribe al revés. Como si no encajara perfectamente con la realidad, cruzando las piernas con un~>

//HI WIFE

¿Así me llaman en Faerún?

Ugh. Que asco de nomenclaturas. Me voy a peinar a doscientas ratas.

ɿobɒƹɒɔ ,oɘv ɘT

"Oh, si.

¿Porqué limitarse tanto?

¿Donde queda su ambición, Doctor, de ir mas allá?"

Sonríe. Una sonrisa perfectamente blanca, como la dentadura de una muñeca. Ojos vidriosos reflejan el rostro del Nigromante.

Niños y familias.

Hm~. Algo rebajado para mi gusto. ¿Donde está el reto?

El Diablo de la Costa - Primera cosecha « 𝑃𝑙𝑖𝑐. 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑐. 𝑌𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟. 𝑃𝑙𝑖𝑐. 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑐. 𝑁𝑜 𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠, 𝑡𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟. 𝑃𝑙𝑖𝑐. 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑐. 𝑇𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑜, 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎 𝑣𝑎 𝑎 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑟. 𝑃𝑙𝑖𝑐. 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑐. 𝑌 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟...

❖ 𝑬𝒍 𝑫𝒊𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒂 𝑪𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂: 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝑪𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒂 ❖ [ Relato. ]

docs.google.com/document/d/1...

"¿Y eso?"

El aparente jóven, de vestido moderno en negro con detalles amarillos, estira la mano, "sacando" de la oreja del doctor una sombrilla, abierta de par en par a su hombro.

Su voz, no se corresponde a la de un muchacho. Hosca, aguda. Algo irritante de escuchar.

Una sombrilla, melón.

¿Usted moreno, se pone azul oscuro o morado?

ㅤ
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𓇻 ⸻⸻ 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ;
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 .
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒅 .
ㅤ

//Yo tengo a este cabrón al que le gusta liarla y puede estar literalmente en dos sitios a la vez hacemos networkin-

//bwah, solo son los nacionales-

❝𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆! 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. 𝑴𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒏, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 soᥣᥙtιoᥒ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 Mᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs!❞

⤿Advᥱᥒtᥙrᥱr, Moᥒstᥱr Hᥙᥒtᥱr.

⤿Mᥲιᥒᥣყ FᥲᥒtᥲsყRP.

⤿RT?

The living, none the wiser.

Now, as the table splits down the middle as if it were liquid, for the entity to walk at him.

As if the eagerness makes it forget, gravity seems to no longer affect the suit, or his hair. The features of his face obscured, and fingers lengthen towards his face.

Then,

Moonlight.

He is back to ~>

He flips the cards.

A Full House, as his golden eyes lock onto him, a satisfied grin in the darkness.

"I will take the memory of this deal. Of this day.

You will not know of your death. You will not know of me. You will not know of this deal."

He has taken the deal. And there's no going back ~>

ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜʀɪᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ꜱɪɴɢ,
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɓuı⋊
ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇ ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ɪɴ
ᴅɪᴍ ɐsoɔɹɐƆ.

"These are the shores of Carcosa. Crashing on the Stygian tide...

...They are as part of me as the blood in my veins- that is to say, not mine but me.

There is no fine print.

I want one of your memories. One that does not exist yet."

"For a price. Yes. But not an unreasonable one. I am no scammer."

He checks his cards. And raises the bet. Two chips at the center.

For the odds are always with the Yellow House.

"Indeed.

And still it is odd, isn't it?"

The two cards fly into her hands. The two kings.

And the seat before her lies empty.

"How you miss the forest for the trees.

Now, Larina.

.

.

.

𝕴 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊.

"Again. It is not an opinion."

His brow furrows. Jallo doesn't like to be second guessed.

He flips his hand. Two kings. One faceless. In yellow. One she knows. In a grim red helmet.

"Why else would he protect you like such?"

Business, do you not?"

From his palms. Chips pour. His own, golden and yellow. The other's, black and red. Brandishing a proud, eyeless Nosferatu as decoration.

Sea lice spill onto the table. Pushing the chips towards jax, as the blond man serves two hands. Of two cards each.

"Not to me.

You've unfinished~>

"You ask me to give you what you have, and to tell you what you know. I feel a bit scammed myself."

He grins, from ear to ear. Not in a negative manner though.

The rats pick up the deck. Bringing it his way. To shuffle now. Only with his fingertips.

Than ever.

Someone willing to aim power towards the cruel."

Clad in hate, wear the fleece of a murdered people. And claim the nests they stole are theirs.

They do naught but justify the great mounts of corpses their money is built on."

A white and blue Cuckoo is the Jack. Nested in red, white, black and green.

"The world needs a Superman more~>