THE St. Louis Speakeasy
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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Sun Jul 17, 2011 4:42 pm GMT 
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Writing stories was not the easiest profession, at least not consistently. The stories would ebb and flow in focus and on occasion demand to be written. One such story had cemented itself into Darla's mind, refusing to allow her attention elsewhere until it was written in full, which would have been fine, save that there was a need for a specific kind of research in order to write it in the first place. Usually, this would not be so troubling, but this time she was uncertain it would be allowed.

Darla sighed, setting her pencil down yet again, glancing at the clock as she waited for Fritz to come home from work. The kids were down for a nap, the table set for dinner, and the meat and potatoes slow-cooking in the pot, ready to eat whenever Fritz finally arrived. She hoped he'd come directly home tonight.

Nervously, she smoothed out her dress, biting her lip as she added the final touches to her appearance. She carefully smoothed out the dress she hadn't worn before (a gift of Macaulay's that had simply seemed far too nice for everyday use—the proper situation had just never come up) and a touch of make-up, hardly noticeable. It was perhaps going too far, but she had a feeling that the idea would be met with some resistance. She glanced around the living room again, eyes falling on the clock whose second hand tick-tocked nearer and nearer to her husband's arrival.

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Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 12:07 am GMT 
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The rattle of keys in the outer lock of the door was the first indicator of his arrival. He was about fifteen minutes later than usual, and 'usual' itself was generally a good ten minutes later than he habitually told her he would be upon leaving each morning. He'd been late leaving his office, having fallen asleep around four with his feet propped up on his desk, and hadn't awoken until the end of the day. In addition to the bleary scramble to collect his things and get out the door, the streetcar had broken down fifteen blocks from his usual stop, and rather than wait around in hopes of an imminent repair, he had simply jumped ship and walked. The exercise, such as it was, had probably done him good. For someone who did so little during the normal course of the day, he spent a great deal of time sleeping. Ironically enough, what with the twins' unpredictable sleep patterns and sporadic crying spells at all hours of the day or night, he slept better and more soundly in his quiet, dusty office than in his own home.

He let himself in, and immediately caught the aroma of dinner on the stove. And it was mercifully quiet--he suspected the twins were sleeping, or at least tranquil. The stress of the past few months showed, unmistakably so. Fritz was somewhat more dishevelled than usual, his tie loose and his collar slightly askew. One of the buttons had fallen off the front of his coat, which he forgot about until it came time to button it closed, at which point he would mutter swear words to himself in Czech, determine to get it fixed, and promptly forget about it again. There were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes.

Standing just inside the door, he shrugged off his coat and discarded it, along with his briefcase and scarf, in the doorway of the living room, slinging it over the back of the nearest armchair rather than depositing it neatly on the coat rack the way his wife would no doubt have preferred. He didn't act with the intent to irritate so much as his habitual carelessness, a profound ignorance of the work Darla put into keeping the house tidy, and an even deeper neglect of the idea that she might prefer some help in keeping it that way. Only then did he trudge through the doorway into the living room itself and notice Darla where she sat. He had expected to find her waiting in the kitchen. This, and the fact that there was something different about her appearance tonight, caught him momentarily off guard, and he stood blinking dumbly in her direction, waiting for perhaps some word of explanation.

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 12:27 am GMT 
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At the sound of the key in the lock, Darla tensed even further, feeling her heartbeat increase, as it always did these days when some sound or another broke the relative quiet. She half expected to hear the twins start to cry—Tavia, if not Seva—but was relieved that they didn't. It was always taxing when Fritz was late. The worries always started as the minute hand crept towards the expected arrival time.

Would he come home this time? Had something happened? Had he finally realized that Darla was hardly the woman he must have thought she was, to ever have married her? Had he gone back to his old job, gotten arrested? Or worse still, shot? Was he lying, dead, in an alley somewhere, or at the bottom of damned river?

But every night, he would come in, and she would breathe that sigh of relief, force and smile, and tell him that she had kept his dinner warm. They would sit, eat, talk some, but it all seemed so strained now, and she found herself growing ever more lonely.

At the questioning look, she swallowed, standing up. "Fritz," she murmured, not entirely sure how to start, despite having played the scene out so many times in her head, despite preparing it all so carefully. Now, she couldn't remember a single word. "Ah. . .kin we talk? Ah. . .Ah need ta ask ya. . .somethin'. . ." She didn't meet his eyes when she spoke.

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 12:46 am GMT 
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He shuffled into the room without taking off his shoes, drawing closer to her. When he wasn't caught up in a lie, consciously or otherwise, his face was generally quite expressive. His concern was already evident in the way his dark eyebrows drew together, though the concern was tempered by a certain wariness. Clearly something was amiss, or else Darla wouldn't have approached him so seriously with whatever was weighing on her mind. On the other hand, she looked very nice, and he found himself experiencing a vague, creeping sense of suspicion.

He looked her briefly up and down. It occurred to him that she looked somewhat nicer than usual--or in any case, more carefully groomed. It was hard to believe that anything would come of it, though, at least as far as he was concerned. Given the constant demands of the twins' care, he could scarcely remember the last occasion upon which they'd had the time, inclination, and energy to do more than collapse wearily into bed at the end of the day. Darla, who was stuck with the brunt of the childcare on top of the housework and her writing, seemed especially prone to this exhaustion. On some nights, Fritz would simply give up hope of any private time with his wife and go slinking out to the bars to drink. It was more tolerable than lying awake in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling and feeling listless and glum and sexually repressed.

"Alright," he began, still eying her with equal measures of worry and misgiving. "I'm listening."

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"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 12:54 am GMT 
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Now, under Fritz's gaze, she felt all the more uncertain and nervous, second guessing her decision and the question she meant to ask. In a sudden thought, all she wanted was to kiss him, hold him close and perhaps go to the bedroom. . . It had, after all, been quite some time. . .

But it was too far into this now, really, and the story was still demanding in the back of her mind and she lifted her head to look at her husband. It almost hurt to see the wariness there on his face, so open and plain to see. "Ah wanted ta. . .ask f'Ah. . ."

The words broke and trailed off, faint at the ends. She shook her head, moving then, turning to go to the desk pushed towards the corner of the room, where she kept sewing supplies. She opened the drawer, pulling out a needle and black thread before turning and going to pick up Fritz's coat. She'd noticed the button had been missing, but until now she could simply never find the energy to fix it. Now, however, she needed something to distract her from the anxiety that was beginning to churn.

"Where's th'button?" she asked, almost absently, as she sat back down on the couch, the coat over her knees.

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 8:54 pm GMT 
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Her question was met with a blank look. "Button?" he asked. Only then did it occur to him that she was probably referring to the button on his coat. Impulsively, he checked his pockets, though he did so without the real expectation of finding anything. "Oh. I think I lost it. There should be a close match, though, in that jar of buttons I found in the closet. . . " Probably Macaulay's buttons, in fact, though neither of them had come out and said anything about it. Instead, Macaulay's presence seemed at times to hover over them like a silent ghost of Shakespearean caliber. These days, it was merely one more strange and uncomfortable chapter in their lives which they generally avoided mentioning when possible.

Fritz turned on his heel, with the vague idea in mind of fetching back the button jar. After only a few steps, however, he paused and turned back to regard her intently. This time, his expression was a little more veiled than before, a little more nuanced and more complicated to read. "But what were you going to ask me?"

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Wed Aug 10, 2011 9:07 pm GMT 
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Already Darla was nodding, picking at the threads that were left in place of the former button. At the question, her movements faltered slightly but didn't stop for more than a moment. ". . .Ah think. . .Ah want ta go out some nigh'," she finally murmured slowly, but there was something in her tone that told that she hadn't said the whole truth. She seemed far too focused on the threads, nervously pulling at them.

". . .There's. . .a story I wanna research," she continued after a long pause. She bit her lip, her hands slowly halting their movements. "Ah. . .kinda. . .undahcovah, y'know?" She looked up at Fritz, then away after a moment when she saw his expression. She didn't want to hurt him. It was the last thing that she wanted, truly.

". . .But Ah n-need ta know. . .what women. . .women do," she said, her voice quiet, leaning towards the level of a whisper in the quiet room. "When. . .when they're. . .tagethah. . ."

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 8:57 pm GMT 
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At the mention of going out, Fritz felt a faint stir of hope in his heart. After all, there was no real reason why they couldn't recapture the carefree attitude of earlier days, before children, before he'd gone to prison. Surely they could find someone trustworthy to watch the children for a few hours, maybe even overnight now that they were several months old. In spite of his weariness, Fritz's mouth began to curve upwards into a smile.

The smile stopped short, and quickly faded.

"Together?" he repeated, a slight crease forming between his brows. He shuffled his feet a little, feeling a sudden inclination to flee from the room before this conversation took off in a direction he didn't particularly want it to go. "I'm sure there are plenty of nice women who could pay a visit during the day." Crossing the room, he sat on the couch beside her, leaning forward in an attempt to avoid sinking too deeply into the cushions. He reached over to pat her hand, half as a reassuring gesture and half as an attempt to keep her from fiddling with the loose threads on his coat, because it was making him nervous. "I know you must feel lonely, being all day in the house. Maybe we should. . . start going to church. Make some nice friends. Decent people, who can perhaps lend you a hand sometime."

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:23 pm GMT 
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Darla winced lightly, dreading what she would have to say now, her hands flinched slightly at the gentle pat. She wetted her lips, fingers curling, gripping the coat tightly as she tried to muster up enough courage to speak when, in reality, she wasn’t sure such courage existed. So the silence stretched, becoming more and more damning. The clock ticked, loudly and echoing in her folded ears, her tail twitching anxiously.

Finally, she sighed, deciding to at least say something – nothing could be worse than this silence.

“Nah, Fritz… Ah dohn’….mean th’kind ya meet at church,” she murmured, eyes fixed on her knees; still she forced the words out. “Ah…am a bit lonely sometimes, but…this – this is only fer r-research. Ah dohn’….dohn’ know how they do it...an’ Ah kin’t w-write it ‘less Ah know an’…” She ran out of breath, swallowing thickly.

Still, the smile had hurt, and she suddenly wanted to take him into her arms, forget about the last five minutes, the damn book, and simply be held close. But it was too late for that. “Please, Fritz… Ah dohn’ wanna hurt you – nevah – but Ah feel….feel like Ah gotta do this.”

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 9:01 pm GMT 
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This time as she spoke, he rose sharply to his feet and began to pace. Though his expression was blank, he didn't seem to look at her until she had nearly finished speaking, at which point he rounded on her abruptly enough to cut off the end of her sentence. "How they do what, Darla? What, precisely, is it that you have to do?"

Although his tone remained level, the words were barbed. When was the last time he had been angry around Darla? The fact of the matter was. . . never, really. Rather than have outbursts of rage or frustration in the house, he would go slinking out to a bar and either vent his troubles to a sympathetic ear over a few too many drinks, or take out his anger on anyone who happened to look at him the wrong way, though he was usually the one to come out the worse from such tussles. And he had never, never allowed himself to take out his anger on Darla, or even to feel anger towards her. He had always managed to hold her blameless, reminding himself of everything she had suffered through on his account, while he was in prison and she was pregnant and alone. But this time she had slipped too far off the pedestal he'd put her on. And this time there would be no free passes, no easy outs. If she was going to ask him for such a thing, she would damn well have to muster the guts to say it.

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Fri Mar 09, 2012 5:04 pm GMT 
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She winced at that, looking away from the man that had been her husband for some time now, the father of her children. And yet. . .sometimes he felt like such a stranger to her - now more than ever. To her credit, she didn't cry. She bit her lip for a moment then seemed to steel herself, taking a deep breath. "How they love each othah," she finally said. Her voice was low, but she kept it steady enough; she wouldn't back down from this.

It wasn't enough of an explanation, she feared. She got to her feet then, drifting over to the window, looking out it at the rows of similar houses that lined the street. All so perfect, neat. "Ah wahn' ta pretend. Fer a while," she said. "Ah dohn' wanna leave ya, jus' pretend. . .fer a story. When it's written, Ah wohn need ta 'nymore."

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

Characters, and Timelines! Char solos!


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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Sat Apr 21, 2012 10:42 am GMT 
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"I'm not stupid, Darla," he snapped, beginning to pace again. "You think my English is not so good I can't recognize bullshit when I hear it?" This time, though, the pacing didn't last long before he stopped, then started, then stopped again. "Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. It was hard to believe that this was the life he'd dreaming about while counting the days until his release from prison. This was his perfect life, his wife, his children, the good home and good future he'd wanted for all of them. He had thought that if he could just stay on the good side of the law, if he could just keep his job, that they might have a shot at the American Dream after all. But of course it wouldn't be that simple. Though how was he to have known that the instant he turned his back, it would be his beautiful all-American wife who tore it all apart?

An instant later, he was pacing again, and this time the volume of his voice rose until he was on the verge of shouting.

"Any normal woman would just look for an interview--assuming, that is, that a normal woman would have the slightest reason to write about this kind of thing. Do you think I would get any respect, ever again, if it was known I let my wife write and publish the kind of--of perverted filth you're describing to me? And what if someone found out? What if they recognized you? What the hell is the matter with you, Darla?"

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


Last edited by i_heart_dvorak on Sat Feb 21, 2015 11:10 pm GMT, edited 1 time in total.

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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 6:53 pm GMT 
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The words hurt to hear and Darla closed her eyes to the perfect houses for a moment, ears folding back. After a moment, she reached out and took hold of the drapes, closing them a moment later. She didn't turn yet, didn't release the tight grip on the drapes as she drew in a slow breath. "An' ya think m'normal?" she whispered. "What. . .what if Ah weren't so normal?" she asked softly, tail curling slightly around her legs, as though to shield or comfort.

She turned her head then, eyes narrowed. "Perverted filth?" she hissed lowly. "An' wha' do ya call wha' ya did wit mah brothah?" She let go of the drapes then, turning quickly to stalk into the kitchen, busying herself with the pots and cookware she'd used to make dinner. Her movements were sharp, harsh.

Though when she'd first met Fritz, his past fling with her brother was hardly something that she let bother her, but then things somehow changed, slowly. Fritz had acted strange, had spent the night at the Dragonfly. She didn't dare think that he'd cheated - at least, she didn't want to - but something about their past together had begun to make her hate it, the fact that they had been together. She'd begun to suspect that perhaps she was not his preferred type. That he was simply using her, pretending. Playing at normality.

The thought made her cry at times, though they were rare - the thought that she was no more than a substitute for her brother. She knew well enough that they looked alike - they were siblings after all - and Fritz had only slept with her when he thought that Danny was dead. Had only married her when he found out that she was pregnant. Her hands trembled slightly and she bit her lip, hard.

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

Characters, and Timelines! Char solos!


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Ahoy!
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 3:37 am GMT 
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With a few long strides he had crossed into the kitchen, to where Darla stood. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her around to face him with enough force to send the pot in her hands crashing to the ground. It tipped onto its side and a few potatoes went slithering out onto the tile. Fritz ignored this fact, ignored the clamor and the mess, and focused his attention on his wife.

"Don't you dare," he spat. Here, suddenly, was a side of him she'd never seen. After all, this man who trudged home late from work and pulled ridiculous faces to make the babies laugh, this man who lost buttons off his coat, had worked for almost two years as a paid assassin. There was no telling how many lives he'd taken. And yet, Darla would have been easily forgiven if it had challenged her imagination to believe that this was the same man--that is, until now. The weariness in his expressive eyes was gone, and in its place was seething anger. And, perhaps, the capacity to do something dangerous, impulsive. Criminal.

But as quickly as it had surfaced, it was gone. His grip on her arm had been hard, vice-like, though not tight enough to leave a bruise. Releasing her, he turned away. He moved slowly, as though in shock, though his face was hidden from her. His overwhelming instinct now told him to run, but sometimes even consummate cowards get sick of running. It was as though he no longer had strength enough even to stand, and so instead he leaned back against the wall, gave up, and sank down to sit on the floor with his head in his hands.

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"Because studies have shown that dvorak's a genius" - Dass
"On a side note, dvorak, looks like the Pope is recognising your authority in Sainting people. Can only be one person representing God on earth at a time" -TFP


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Amicitia concero omnis
 Post subject: Re: Hear Me Out (Dvorak)
PostPosted: Mon Dec 03, 2012 8:11 pm GMT 
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When he'd grabbed her, she'd let out a cry, her eyes wide but filled indignant anger and - true enough - fear. Fritz had never let his temper show around her beyond irritation and it shook her to see it now, directed at her. She didn't break the gaze however, but stubbornly tried to meet it with her own, their faces only inches apart. Her ears were flat, fur on end and tail high in defiance. Her ankles were wet from the water in the pot and she could feel a potato against her heel but she paid it no mind.

And then it was over and he released her, backing away. She fell back a step with the tension, knocking the potato into the kitchen cabinet, and it connected with a dull thud. She swallowed, watching the other man. Something told her that she probably shouldn't push any further - and yet. . .

"Ah'll dare all Ah want," she breathed out in a faint hiss, straightening. "Ya've no right t'say that 'bout me, nah when Ah know what ya've done."

She stayed where she was for a long moment, just looking at the other man. At one time she might've felt pity, a desire to go to him - but not this time, not after that display.

_________________
Play it across the table
What if we steal this city blind?
If they want anything, let 'em nail it down.
— Carl Sandburg


Det tog 25 år att ens komma så här långt och jag ser en framtid där jag kunde bli något stort...

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