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folie a deux

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folie a deux last won the day on June 6 2010

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About folie a deux

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  • Birthday March 13

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    Bay Area, CA

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  1. @The Thunder Tyrant Very helpful, thank you!
  2. What has your manuscript rejection process looked like? What's kept you going?
  3. What is this horror roleplay called? I wanna lurk it.
  4. James Mason was the sheriff and did know more than her about the law on any given day. She hoped he was right - she wanted more than anything to ensure her former boss got what was coming to him next. "Thank you..." she said after a few pensive moments, "....for listening and understanding. I hate to bring up Bluford with others, you see. They all look at me like I'm some kind of goldmine of information." This had been one of the only times in the last few weeks that she had talked about Bluford candidly. Certainly, her family and associates had wanted all the gossip when they had first heard the news, but Esme wasn't much for that. With a federal marshal now on the case, things were finally moving in the direction Esme wanted. "Yes," she said, "I can get you those. While it's not ideal, I made an executive decision to start new ledgers after Bluford's accusations surfaced. I've documented everything and made notes when appropriate so others will know the cause of new ledgers." She hadn't ventured into his office nor had for cleaned it out to make it her own. She had felt something like this was coming and wanted to keep everything the way Bluford had left it, in hopes that someone might find something. "Should your or this marshal need access to Bluford's old office, I can give you both that too." While she didn't feel at home quite yet in her new role, these steps were progress in the right direction.
  5. Hey, just checking to see if we're still on.

  6. Esme waited patiently and was careful to let the man speak. She listened intently, and found that he hadn't know her former boss well either. She was beginning to think no one who crossed paths with Randolph Bluford really knew him well at all. "I didn't see it coming," Esme said. She had to admit to herself that she still felt a gentle pang of guilt wash over her because she hadn't seen any obvious signs: she hadn't caught him forging documents, breaking in to parcels, or committing fraud. "He hid it well, Sheriff." She gave him a weak smile and began to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in her dress on account of her anxiousness. "I never saw him do anything out of the ordinary, at least while he was working here." She lifted an arm, gesturing to the post office they were standing in. "I hope you believe that if..." Her voice trailed off softly as she worked to collect her thoughts. She wanted to be honest - it was in her nature after all. James Mason was the sheriff for God's sake. "...if I would have found him doing anything out of the ordinary, I would have come to you or any other lawman in this town." She breathed a sign of relief and straightened her back, feeling better. "I don't mean to sound insensitive, Sheriff Mason, but I hope Cincinnati gives him what he deserves. I'd like to think we're good people here in Oakpeak. I'd hate to see Mr. Bluford tarnish our reputation." Esme wasn't sure how Mason saw the town. Esme, however, she'd just returned from a crowded church service after all and those earnestly religious townsfolk...well, they had to have some semblance of good in them.
  7. She gabbed the letter and brought it close to her chest. She wasn't used to such a personal delivery, especially by the sheriff. The gesture, however, did make her feel welcome in her new role. If the sheriff entrusted her with his personal letters, she hoped the others in town would as well. "I'll get this out first thing in the morning," she said. She wished she had the time today, but with no delivery service on Sundays and the hour slowly winding down it was the best she could do. "I'm sure Debby will be happy to read this, Sheriff Mason." It had only been a few weeks since she stepped into the role of postmaster. It had been a whirlwind and her former boss was now a criminal. There had been a few days, last week, when Esme had all but expected Randolph Bluford to come in for his shift as postmaster - bright and early in the morning. She thought carefully before she responded. "There has been a learning curve, as I had expected; however, I'm hoping the post office flourishes under my leadership." Esme smiled. She was confident she would be the town's postmaster for a long while. After all, she had had nearly five years of practice as post clerk. "Did you know Mr. Bluford well?" she asked before placing the letter he had handed her on a nearby table of outgoing mail. Esme was careful and purposefully avoided any mention of Bluford's new life. She didn't recall ever seeing them mingling at church or in the post office. She wondered how much he knew.
  8. folie a deux

    Donations 9.0

    Transaction ID 7NL71604N94915744 ❤️
  9. I don't play a lot of video games but the Spyro Reignited Trilogy was released for Nintendo Switch so... He's so cute!
  10. The sweep of her pen across the pages of the registrar was what her body had needed to cool down. Page after page, she ensured the registrar was accurate and up-to-date. She found it pleasing to see tally how many people moved away from the town and how many entered. Throughout her edits, the ink dried, it seemed, with the flick of her wrist thanks to the warm weather. She found herself almost lulled to sleep by the smooth motion of the letters as they left the pen and the repetitive motion of dipping the pen to and from its inkwell. The new residents were now all accounted for: a family of five who had bought the empty ranch on the outskirts of town and another man, Jeremiah Fieldhouse who claimed he was just passing through a few months ago. Fieldhouse had ended up declaring Oakpeak his new place of residence last week and had now made it official via postage. Esme remembered Fieldhouse, primarily because of his last name and how calmly he'd introduced himself when he stopped in for a package. The rattle of the door allowed the fog around Esme's work to dissipate and before she knew it, she found herself straightening her dress, and placed her pen gently back in the inkwell. She moved out from behind the office wall and closed the small gate behind her with a gentle click. "Hello there, Sheriff Mason," she said, with a gentle smile. "Business is alright. Sundays are slow but we're only open for an the next hour or so." She was sure he knew of how the post office worked - being helpful was simply in her blood. "What can I help you with? I didn't see your name on any of the incoming parcels." Before she vanished into the storeroom to check, she noticed the shine across his forehead and the coffee cup in his hand. Esme gestured to the small writing desk where a small pitcher, trimmed with oak leaves, sat. "Have you finished your coffee? Please help yourself if you find yourself feeling parched."
  11. Oh, no! Get some hydrogen peroxide on that stuff, @Praetorian. It's my cure-all for everything.
  12. Shoot me a PM and we can talk! @danzilla3
  13. Sunday, 11 am | Oakpeak Post Office Church had raged on. Nothing would stop the panels of her dress from sticking ferociously to her legs or arms. The fan she held in her hand was of minimal help but her hand continued to move absently up and down. She was able to give up, but when a bead of sweat dripped down her forehead to the bridge of her nose, she tightened her grip on the fan and continued. All morning, she found herself unable to concentrate on the sermon. She knew it was one she'd heard a hundred times before but her mind had been thick and warm, much too foggy for any sort of contemplation. Following church, she'd walked the short distance to the post office and curse the humidity under breath hoping the Lord would forgive her. When she entered, to her happiness, the post office had stayed relatively cool and quiet. She closed the door behind her, turned the sign around indicating the post office was, indeed, open on this very hot day. She'd been here for one hour -- no more, no less -- as was customary. Esme knew she was good at keeping tradition and while her former boss was now on trial, she belie ed in keeping with the same hours and nuances as the townspeople had come to know and recognize under his hazardous leadership. She'd only drawn the window coverings back a few inches or so, for fear the harsh sunlight find the glass and seep in. She kept busy behind the large wall that separated the postage materials from the rest the main floor. Oatpeak had recently welcomed a few new residents and Sundays were generally quiet, Esme decided she would have the time today to revise the town registrar and update a few ledgers. She leaned dutifully against the post office wall, the glass tile partially obstructing her face from view. @Die Shize
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