~**MOVED**~

New account is here

So, today I reached 50 followers on this blog. That may not seem like many, but never in my life have I had a roleplay blog get that many followers that fast.

So firstly, I want to thank you all. This has been such a lovely experience. I’ve been here barely three weeks and already I feel like I might be able to stay; and that’s something I’ve never felt before and wasn’t expecting.

So thank you so much for your support!!

But that’s not the only reason I’m making this. After some deliberation it has occurred to me that this blog would probably be better on its own account.

So! I am moving.

I hope you will stay with me. Here is the link to my new account. Everything should be exactly as it was on this one, just with the added bonus of... being able to manage interaction better. 

I will be keeping all my threads, just moving them over to there. I’ll also be following a lot of people in the next few days (or hours) so be expecting me! 

@teadrinkingtroublemaker

Kit accepted the mittens. They limited the dexterity of her hands, but so would being numb with cold. The mittens, at least, she could take off as needed. It was better to have the extra protection than not. “I have a box of poison darts.” she admitted. She looked down as she said it. Dewey knew about her fieldwork, he know about the decisions she sometimes needed to make. But he was so gentle that she could not help but feel aware of the growing murkiness of her moral compass in comparison. At the end of the day, he had not even thought about bringing a weapon- she had grabbed one automatically. What did that say about her?

Kit ducked next to Dewey and watched the car roll by. She mentally compared the car’s path to the location of the headquarters. “He still doesn’t seem to have a direct idea of where he’s going. But if he keeps searching long enough, he’ll stumble into something.” If the villain was clever, he would go up. Everything could be seen from the peaks. We should hurry.”

Kit arranged her clothing as best as she could, slid the box of darts into an easily accessible pocket, slipped the gloves on her hands, and turned toward the path that would take them to the Valley of the Four Drafts.

Dewey hadn’t thought to bring a weapon because he was unprepared, as usual. He wasn’t often this rusty, truthfully, but it had been urgent, and he wasn’t as clever as Kit was. His skills simply lay elsewhere, which was why when it came to heists in the old days he’d usually been regulated to being the escape artist, or the distraction. 

“Beatrice?” 

Dewey was incredulous. Since his death two years ago he had never seen another soul stuck in the same state. He had long thought he was the only one, wandering among the living, searching through the remnants of his once-beautiful hotel, or sitting at the bottom of the pond, stricken with guilt and longing that immobilized him more than the harpoon that had ripped his life away from him. 

            It may interest you to know that the Hotel Denouement has a clock, of which the rings help to tell the time. I came up with this myself. I’m Dewey Denouement, one of the three owners of the “Hotel Trapped in Time,” as it’s been called for reasons I don’t under stand. Perhaps it’s the antiquated charm that does it. Anyway, the Hotel is in front of a beautiful and very reflective pond, which shows the mirror image of the building. It’ll certainly please the eye, if I may risk sounding immodest. If you send a message by transit to Frank K. Denouement, he will help you to book a stay of any length much more urgently than if you were to simply ring the bell at the desk and ask for assistance. Although, I grant, ringing the desk bell works too.

“Ah, whoever did it…” Ken began, the twins smiling in amusement.

“…Had a very immature sense of humor.” Kyle added. “They seem to have put a ‘kick me’ sign on your back. We thought we should alert you before something happened.”

              BEATRICE HAD TO SUPPRESS A GIGGLE as Dewey spoke in a hushed whisper. Really, most bats were quite harmless, but like Monty & his snakes, her creatures appeared sinister& scary, & so people often got the wrong idea about bats. That was one of the things she liked about them.

            “    I should be able to make due with the bed sheet, if you don’t mind, of course.    ”

Dewey nodded. “Of course!” While he wasn’t sure he wanted a bat in his sheets, he didn’t really want one living in his room either. 

‘you know, i can’t help but notice you seem a little at WAR with yourself here.‘