I don't know. I guess I love him? But I still wish Harl got him out of the city when it was revealed his family is the founder on the city thought. And for what I know, he doesn't really care for me because I am a doorman.
We have talked more since his criminal gang joined Mary's side. He keeps rambling about his hate towards her.
I think you are the same anon that asked about my opinion on Lieutenant Detain.
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It's been exactly a year since my "DOOR" video.
So here is the sequel featuring pretty much every time Fendrich says "Sinclair" across the 4 seasons as well as added chaos.
Did Fendrich from LEGO City Adventures for Inktober Day 18
~Art is mine
I donāt own LEGO City Adventures
Do not steal/edit/use/copy/repost
-NinjagoZaneFan14/NZF14~
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Summary: Ariaās Mother isnāt back yet. She goes to look for her and seeās something a 13yr old shouldnāt see
Ariaās POV
The wind howls through the sky as I trudge through the snowy forest, looking for any sign of movement. Mother hasnāt come back for nearly 6 hours and father is worried for her safety. My brother wants to help search for her but father is forbidding him from going out into the cold at his age. He knows that I am old enough to trust not to go out into this type of weather, but perhaps this time, he should have watched me as well.
I call out into the night hoping for a response āMother! Mother, where are you?!ā Itās hard to be heard over the wind but Iāll keep going! āMOTHE-!ā I freeze looking ahead of me, a dark lump lays still on the ground not far from where I stand. maybe itās just an animal? itās hard to tell with the fog. I slowly approach the object as it becomes clearer the closer I get.
I wish I hadnāt. I wish I ignored it and kept going
āmother...?ā I squeak out at the sight before me
itās her alright, if it werenāt for the hair sheād be beyond recognition. blood had mis-coloured it and was slightly frozen into it, along with her coat and the snow around her. I take a couple of shaky steps closer, just noticing the claw marks on her stomach area. She was attacked by something.
ām-mother... p-please, please wake up...ā I stutter as I lightly shake her body, waiting for any sign of movement. Nothing. Her eyeās staring ahead blankly at the forest, without the usual sparkle in themĀ āplease, PLEASE WAKE UP! DONāT LEAVE US!!!ā I start to yell, tears falling down my faceĀ āDONāT...ā I fall beside her, curling up and letting the tears flow freelyĀ ādonāt leave me...ā
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Itās warm when I wake up. I glance around at the surroundings to see where I am. Iām... back home? was everything that happened just a dream?
āyouāre finally awake, I seeā I jump at the sudden voice on my left and turn to face them. It was father, but he seemed to be a mix of both relief and anger, with a little bit of... sadness in his voice? what is going on?
he stands from where he was sitting on his chair and walks towards me, taking a seat again on the opposite side of the couch I was on, seeming to think about what he is going to sayĀ āAria Bransteinaā¦ā he startedĀ āwhat you did earlier was reckless and dangerous, you could have died out there and weāve would've lost two members of our family in one day! I expected better from you being the oldest!ā
Iām startle by the quick tone change and shrink back (heās never been this mad at any of us befor-) my attention snaps back to reality when arms wrap around me pulling me into a tight embrace.Ā āwhat you did was stupid, but Iām glad your ok at least...ā he mutters almost silently. I return the hug, both of us sitting in silence (wait, he said two, does that mean...?)
āfather?āĀ āhm?āĀ āyou said earlier you wouldāve lost two family members today, does that mean...ā I ask with worry crawling up my spine. He pulls back slightly and sighsĀ āyes. Iām afraid weāve lost our snowbirdā I fell my tears renew again as I cry against my father.
Howard Fendrich, award-winning AP national sports writer and tennis expert, dies at 55
Howard Fendrich, a national sports writer for The Associated Press whose persistent reporting and detail-rich prose brought readers inside dozens of taut Grand Slam tennis finals, record-breaking Olympic moments and harrowing trips down Alpine ski slopes, has died. He was 55.
Fendrich died Thursday at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, his wife Rosanna Maietta said. He was diagnosed with cancerā¦