We could always do a different SB, but similar. I mean, since Will of the Fates is kind of in a slump right now. Or maybe just a separate thing entirely. With less "i'm going to kill those fr**king gods" and more Percy Jackson type stuff. *shrugs*
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
*shrugs* You just have to time it right, make the plot original but still somewhat used before so that people know what you're talking about, and leave enough room for twists and turns.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
God I was posting the ending when I got logged out and now I got to retype it.
An angel, a knight, a man who will bring light to where there is only darkness, I am the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, hail to me as I am King Lucifer!
F*** it I'm gonna wait for this stupid server restart to happen.
An angel, a knight, a man who will bring light to where there is only darkness, I am the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, hail to me as I am King Lucifer!
Well, it should be. Lol. My internet is stupid. Does this every so often.
And I'm going to wait to make any more posts on PR or anywhere else until after the server restart. I've actually managed to sit down and start reading one of the three books I have to read over the summer, and if I keep going...I think I might almost finish it before tomorrow, which would be great since this is the one I'm writing an essay on. And then I can say I actually did something productive today when my parents asked if I just sat on my a** all day like usual. *shrugs*
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind