This person is a talented artist and a very good person in general, big heart, big brain, absolutly cute and wonderful ! Go support her work because she deserves it a lot ♥️♥️♥️ ^w^
Randomly posts an Astarion fanart and quickly goes to hide again
…you didn't see anything…
Jokes aside I'm trying to fight back the intrusive thoughts about my drawings being garbage or in general about me being worth nothing, will I come back posting regularly? Eh idk, I don't want to make promises I'm not sure I will keep, but I've missed this place so so much and I'm tired of depriving myself of things I enjoy because of my dumb insecurities
For context Baldur's gate 3 is one of the few things that kept me sane during these months so expect to see some content inspired by that (maybe), like, it's already there, on my pc, I'm just… idk, scared to share it because I'm stoopid
Hello Hello, I remembered I had began to do something like this a long time ago aaaaaaaand then my phone crashed and I had nothing left but this small part of it ><
I know it's not much and the quality of it is trash but hey, better post it now before losing everything !
Song : "Je dors sur des roses", Mozart l'Opéra Rock
–Dad... Is this it ?
Leon frowned a bit turned to look at his son. After Raymond has gone to pick up his mother, they had decided to take something to eat while waiting for the Scottish man to return and the archaeologist decided that it would be fair to let Desmond –the young boy still wanted to be called like this, to him Hershel was now his little brother and he was safe, somewhere out of Targent's reach– choose what he wanted to eat before dinner. The boy had looked around and there was nothing but a little cafe right in front of the park, where Ray had left them. This was a logical and pragmatic choice and, as a matter of fact, the boy was having a very rational mind, seeking pragmatism most of the time, especially not to make his father's life more complicated than it already was. They had sat outside and ordered while waiting for Raymond, and so Desmond had asked for some pancakes and hot chocolate while Leon had only taken a coffee. Black, no sugar. Better to stay awake since he hadn't slept the previous night and almost not the night before either. But he forced himself to smile and keep a rather positive mindset for his son's sake. However, the question got him perplexed.
–What do you mean, my boy ?
Desmond looked down at his chocolate and sighed.
–Are we going to stay here ? I mean... longer ? I... You know, I just wish that we could settle down a bit... maybe a year at least, and do what... what a family do...
Leon's expression grew sadder in the instant and he gulped while trying to restrain a few tears to the corner of his eyes. Of everything, that was what he regretted the most, not being able to protect his family. In fact, he had not been able to do so. And it was because of him, because ofthe Azran– no, because of HIS enthousiasm regarding this ancient civilisation and how much ambition he had put into it, neglecting the danger such a discovery had brought upon him and upon his family. It was HIS fault if these guys showed up one day at his door and tried to have him in a sort of a cult. It was his fault if they had put their threat into act and had taken him and his wife away. Desmond had told him what had happened after this. For two months, both brothers had been living alone in their house while trying to think of a way to stay together but in the end they ended up getting separated and Desmond too was about to get adopted if Leon hadn't come back to pick him up and flee from Targent. And it was all his fault, because if he hadn't tried to escape, Rachel would still be alive at least and Theodore –now Hershel Layton– and Desmond wouldn't have been targeted by a terrorist organisation.
–Dad ?... I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry !
The english man jolted and opened wide eyes before getting dragged out of his thoughts, realising that in fact he was indeed crying, just a few tears but crying anyway. Damn, his father would've called him a crybaby for sure, especially now that he was himself a father. But in this instant he couldn't help but to let out a shy sob. He tried to smile and wipped his tears quickly before shaking his hand.
–No, no, it's fine my boy, it's fine ! I... I'm just a bit tired, that's all... But, to answer your question... I truly don't know... this whole story seems kind of crazy and I don't know if Raymond's mother is going to accept such a proposition.
He wasn't the best when it came to catch the hints Desmond was putting into the conversation, usually Rachel was better at this and she always had the good words, the right words, to comfort their children. But he thought that maybe it would be a good idea to dig it up a bit. If Desmond was asking him about settling down, it probably wasn't coming from nowhere.
–You'd like to have friends I guess ?
Desmond shook his head and looked away, a bit embarrassed. He had tried to hint it when he had said his father he would like to have other sources of knowledge but maybe even that was too subtle for him.
–Not really... That would be nice, indeed, but I... I'd like to go back to school, you know... To learn new things and... maybe go to high school later ? I'd like to learn more, to know more, there is so much I'd like to see, so many places I'd like to go, and–
He stopped and looked at his father, almost desperate by his own words. In his mouth, it sounded incredibly pretentious, petty, ungrateful, but he didn't want to live like a runaway for the rest of his life. But then, with all these questions came the means and the way to achieve such schools. Especially financially.
–I-I can work too, to help you with everything, and–
But his father only chuckled a little and messed with his hair before offering him a bright smile.
–These are grown-ups anxious thoughts, my boy. But I'll tell you. If you want to settle down, then I'll do anything so you can settle down. If you want to go to school, then I'll make sure you'll be able to. If you want to study, I'll make sure you can. So don't worry about anything else but what you truly want, and let me worry about these things. Whatever you want, wherever you go, I'll always support you. Always.
This was enough to make the boy cry, and for a moment Leon thought he had said or done something wrong but his son jumped off his chair and then hopped on his knees to hug him tight and let out all this pressure that had been put on his shoulders for months by now.
–––
In the park, near the gate in front of which the cafe was, Ray was sitting with his mother on a bench, looking at the boy and at the English man, puzzled but certain of something : these guys had been on their toes for far too long, they needed a place to land, a place they could rest knowing there was no enemy outside or inside. His mother was knitting something, her work was done mechanically as if she didn't even had to look at it, and she indeed hadn't taken her eyes off these two people.
–So... Ye truly like this sassenach and his beag, don't ye ?
–They are good people. And ye could come more of'en at yer cottage, mà. We would take good care of it. And the boy could be safe too, loek at him.
–Alright then. Let's not wait any longer, the ballach beag is cryin' !
She put her knitting work, whool and needles in her purse and stood up, already coming to see the boys with a very quick pace. Ray smiled and shook his head, almost having troubles to follow her. If anything, she had never been able to resist a child crying, she always wanted to see happy faces and hear laughters instead of sobs and tears.
When Leon saw them approaching, he seemed a bit confused and anxious, not knowing exactly what to do. He couldn't stand to greet her since his boy was still on his laps, and he couldn't even shake her hand or Desmond would've fallen down.
–O-Oh, hum... Good evening madame !
–Oh, call me Maighread an' quit the salutations, sassenach ! So, who may ye be, lads ?
Leon and Desmond looked at each other and opened wide eyes when they heard her accent. Ray chuckled and shrugged while taking a sit.
–Don't act surprised, A know she's got a helluvan accent, A'm just an amateur, pale. Now, mà, let me introduce to ye... hum...
Leon thought it could be a good way to break the ice a bit and to try to apologise for his rudeness regarding how surprised he had been by her speaking manners, and so he made sure to put Desmond down, stood up carefully and gulped before offering Maighread a hand to shake.
–P-Please to meet you madame... My name is Nikolaï, Nikolaï Sycamore, and this is my son, Desmond.
–Greetings madame, it is... it is a pleasure !
Desmond added before smiling a bit, not knowing how to behave either. The old lady smiled like the happiest person in the world and she seemed to love the idea of having her son bringing people home.
–That's so cute, ye truly are a very distinguish li''le boy, right balach beag ?
She then looked up at Leon and chuckled a bit, which was enough for the archaeologist to relax a bit. Maybe he wasn't making such a bad impression after all. The lady was quite common looking, her hair was like Ray's, her hazel eyes were clearer though and she was older, maybe around 60 probably, but her smile would've make her noticeable anywhere at anytime. Her clothes were common too : heels, a beige skirt with merely a embrodery on it, a rose maybe, and a blue cardigan, and of course a hat, the most sophisticated part of her outfit, carefully pinned on her hair.
–That's delightful to have people comin' here ! Ray barely comes to see me, but can A blame him ? He's a free spirit, as they say these days !
She took the time to stare at the English man and was quick to notice that he seemed to have eat nothing but air for the last past months. She grasped his face and frowned, rather with concern and a bit of reprobation.
–Gracious Lord, look at these cheekbones ! Ye needa eat something boy ! Good thin' Mà Bannag is there ! Now... Ray, ye can go with yer motorbike, A'll take the bus with Nikolaï and his son. This way ye can clean up a bit, it's probably dusty and needs some fresh air, me boy.
–Màààààà... A'm no handyman...
Raymond blushed a bit while scratching the back of his neck. Ah, ntohers, they always know how to embarrass their children, don't they ? However he couldn't say no to her, she was always very comprehensive, never angry, or at least he couldn't think of one single day during which she would've shown anger, and she was never asking him anything anyway. She deserved a lot more than just some help with the cleaning.
Finally, he gave up.
–Fine, I'll do it. Don't be late, OK ?
But before he could go to his bike, Desmond grabbed the edge of his jacket and his eyes were shimmering with excitement.
–Please, can I come ?!
Maighread was having the fondest smile ever hanging on her lips while Ray was surprised enough to open his eyes wide, but not enough to really be cought off guards. Seeing how the child loved mechanics already, he could tell how fascinating a motorbike could be.
Leon, as for himself, was livid. It was as if every trace of colour had left his face and his hand was trembling a little while he was gulping nervously. Let his son go by himself with a total stranger ? Sure, Ray had saved their life once, but Leon was always having his son near him, not too far, and if he had to leave him alone to go to London for example, he would do it knowing there were people ready to take care of him, like in their previous village, or when he was absolutely certain there was no danger. And yet he would never leave for more than an hour, two at best. But right now, leaving his son going by himself with Ray, in a foreign country, alone, on a motorbike, in the countryside, that was too much for his little heart.
And what if they had an accident? What if Targent was there, looking for him and his son even here in Dingwall ? What if Ray was not a good person in the end ? What if he had given his trust to someone dangerous ? What if he was putting his son's life on the line again, just like he did with Rachel and Theodore ? His breath got shorter and his heart seemed to want to jump out of his chest, so much that he was wondering if he wasn't having a stroke.
–Hey, sassenach... !
A firm hand on his shoulders brought him back to reality and he looked at Ray who was trying to understand what was going on here, his hands on his shoulders and a worried frown carving his forehead. Desmond was not saying anything but he bit his lower lip whike clenching his fists and looking away. He was young, right, but he knew his father wasn't fine and in fact he knew that his father was having these kind of struggles rather often. Most of them late at night.
–Y-yeah... I'm fine... I'm fine, I just- I...
–Dad, you're not...
Leon could feel his heart beat painfully in his chest, because he was now again feeling guilty for his behaviour, for his choices and for what he was showing to his boy. No no no, he had to be better, to show him that he was there, even if times were hard, he had to show him that he could protect him. It was his goddamn role, as a father ! He forced himself to smile but his face was still pale, and he bags under his eyes were contrasting so much with his carnation that he seemed to almost be sick.
–I'm just a bit tired, t-that's all.
–No, it's not...
–Sassenach...
Raymond sighed, knowing perfectly well how the English man's brain was reacting and thinking about the boy's wish. He trusted no one. He trusted his son and that was all, and deep down Ray couldn't blame him, that was a way to survive, a very good strategy when you had very few allies. But it was a vicious circle, because you couldn't have allies if you were not able to put some trust in people.
–A doubt ye'll trust me on ev'rythin', but... A swear A wanna help ye... ye both... So, if ye don't feel like lettin' your boy comin' with me, A won't try to convince ye otherwise. Yer son's lucky to have ye as a father...
He looked at his mother who just smiled sadly, as if both were understanding each other without a word, and he shrugged before messing with the boy's hair.
–Don't worry, maybe later balach beag.
–W-Wait...
Everyone looked back at Leon who was trying to take a decision. His face was still showing how uneasy he was, how internally he struggled to give an answer, and how much he wanted the best for his son, even if he was crazily worried for him. He began to fidget a bit, playing with the edges of his coat, and he gulped nervously before taking a deep breath.
–I... I am trying... really... it's just...
Suddenly, and before he could say more, Raymond seemed to have an idea and he clapped his hands together, making Leon jolt again.
–A know ! What if we get on me bike and A drive in front of yer bus ? This way, ye can see us, and the boy's getting a ride !
Desmond opened wide sparkling eyes and a large smile flew across his face before he looked back at his father, with bug puppy eyes pleading for it. Leon seemed to ponder the idea and, after a sigh, he bit his lip and nodded, even if his smile was a very poor mask to hide his worry.
–...I... Yes, why not ? But... you'll be careful, right ?
Raymond smiled. But this time it wasn't a cynical grin or anything, it was a true smile, a kind one, showing how touched he was, to be entrusted with the child. He patted his shoulders a few times and winked.
–No worry, sassenach, we'll be just right ahead.
Desmond almost jumped in his father's arms and hugged him as much as he could, knowing perfectly fine how much this decision was costing him.
–You're the best, dad... thank you.
Leon couldn't help but offer him a smile in return and caressed his hair before kissing his forehead and letting him go with the Scottish man. In fact, seeing them getting on the motorbike, he had almost forgotten that they were four and not three. When Maighread pinched his cheek, his winced a bit but blushed, embarrassed, and stared at her whole she was staring at him, calmly and happily.
–Ye're a good boy, fer sure. Ray's right, yer son's lucky ! Now... come, son, A think we need a li''le chat here.
Ahe looked to her left, Leon followed his eyes. A few meters away, there was a bus stop and, away again, a bus coming right to it.
-> First chapter
-> Previous chapter
Here we go again with jazzy lady XD
Song : Summertime, here sung by Robyn Adele Anderson
As a literature student, I assure you this is absolutely true ! It's mostly how writers guide their readers and the reading of a book.
Writing is NOT made of pure talent, it is mostly learning, how to compose with the language to create something that make sense and that can touch the person of the reader.
Personnaly, I think this is the best thing about writing, you can communicate something to someone with words ! That, that's why I love literature ♡
my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now
Again because insomnia kicks hard sometimes XD
And also because that was a big stupid thing I wanted to make after a silly thought we had with @mortallychaotickingdom
The audio is from "The Nanny", a sitcom I love more than any good thriller XD if Desmond had to declare to his wife, this would be it !
So it's basically an AU where my OC Madeline / Magpie ends up being taken care of by Targent but doesn't rest in peace. Welcome to the haunted Nest of Targent !
Leon wasn't sleeping. He couldn't. All that happened this day was running wild inside his mind and he couldn't help but to feel guilty for having to make his son move out so quickly again. They have been living there for a few months now, it was the longest they've been staying somewhere and he thought he had been careful enough not to get spotted by anyone in London, but he hadn't. And this only simple thing every parent should be able to provide their child –a safe place to live, somewhere to establish– was a mess for him to give to a boy who asked for nothing, and certainly not for a life as a runaway at such a young age. And if it wasn't enough, Leon was also living with the fact that his children would grow up separated, and without their mother. Rachel's face imposed itself to his mind and he sighed again, defeated, while folding a few clothes inside a big bag.
Hershel was sleeping, Leon wanted to make sure he was taking some rest before beginning to pack their stuff, to be ready to leave for tomorrow. The poor boy was still shaken by the way he came back home panicking, and alaso on a motorbike with a total stranger who seemed to know about Targent too. Now that he was thinking about it, this was quite surprising considering that the Scottish man was everything but looking like an archaeologist, or a linguist, or an historian. In fact, he looked rather more like a grave-digger himself, or a treasor hunter. Why would he ever be involved with an organisation like this ? He seemed to be a free spirit, not the kind to be bound to some terrorist company.
Another sigh. God, the day had been tough enough, and the night was barely beginning yet. He wouldn't sleep much, that was certain, even more when he knew he would only have nightmares if he miraculously could grab some minutes of sleep. No, truly, he would be better awake tonight.
The floor creaked. Leon sighed and didn't want to turn so soon. Hershel was having a nightmare again probably, or else he was awake again, but the adult one needed a few seconds to compose himself an expression that wasn't screaming guilt.
–Go back to sleep dear, I'll finish the packing don't worry.
But no one answered back. In fact, the only answer he got was something cold being put between his shoulders, and for having known this sensation for weeks, he suddenly tensed and stopped his movements, paler than a ghost and his throat turning as dried up as the Mojave desert.
–You're up late, Bronev, said a mocking voice behind Leon's back. I'm not surprised though, you always used to work late at night.
No answer from the archaeologist who gritted his teeth while clenching his fists and trembling a bit. His eyes were staring at the wall in front of him with pure terror. Even his voice was trembling a bit because he was already anticipating the following part.
–H-How did... how did you... ?
–Find you ? interrupted the voice of the agent holding him at gunpoint. Quite easy, really. And we know you're quite a competent man when it comes to disappear, so we've made it quick. You have not been very discrete today, have you ? I guess there's still people ready to help a traitor like you.
There was a little moment of silence and then the man came closer to Leon's ear to whisper.
–Also... The Condor sends his regards to you and your son.
Bronev quickly turned around but his eyes were betraying two emotions. First, the anger, and then the horror. He was behaving like a trapped animal, ready to bite to get out of this alive, but also knowing he could possibly die so ready to do anything in a last attempt to live. That was the kind of feelings mixing up in his chest while he was facing the smug agent in blueshish-grey uniform, with his hat and sunglasses, holding the gun. Two other agents were by his side, silent and waiting for an order. That was all they were going to do anyway.
–Don't you dare involve my son into this, he's just a child !
–We'll need that brat to keep you at the Nest, since your wife can't be taking that role anymore.
–You bloody-
But before he could finish his sentence, he heard a scream not so far, in the corridor in fact, and he could have recognised that voice anywhere and anytime. His blood ran cold and he was about to rush out of the room, regardless of the gun, when the other two agents grabbed him firmly enough to stop him from doing so.
–Hershel !
———
Back in his room, the boy had been awake for a few minutes now, really worried and sad to have to leave so soon such a wonderful house and a wonderful town, and wonderful people. And he knew his dad was packing in his room, at the other end of the corridor, because he was doing this every time they had to move on. That was a thing he was doing to ease a bit the guilt and the sadness of the moment but it was still hurting a lot. Deep down, Hershel knew he shouldn't hold a grudge against his father, who was doing absolutely everything he could to keep them safe, but deep down he was conflicted and his little child's heart and mind couldn't bear all this everytime.
At some point, staying alone in this room was too hard to bear too, so he stood up, get out of bed, took his plushy in his arms and was about to join his father to help folding the clothes when someone grabbed him by the waist and dragged him off the floor. He was about to scream, surprised and sure it wasn't his dad, but that somebody stopped him from doing so with a firm hand on his mouth. He was struggling like crazy but a little boy against an adult was not strong enough.
His eyes were beginning to get teary while he was clearly feeling defenseless, and he thought he would be taken away by some shadow but all of the sudden rhe grip of the stranger loosened and he fell on the floor with a grunt. He looked up quickly and saw a vague silhouette falling too, probably unconscious. But what scared him most was the other silhouette behind the first one, black and massive, holding something in his hands. Without thinking about it more than that, the boy screamed.
–Hershel !
He heard his father call for him and was about to call back but the other person kneeled and stopped him from screaming again.
–Shh... ! Be quiet, balach beag...!
As soon as he recognised the words and accent, Hershel opened wide eyes and stopped, trying to distinguish the Scottish man's face thanks to the pale light of the moon piercing through the window. The man in the leather jacket winked a bit and smiled before whispering.
–Now, be quiet... there's a few more people in this house that aren't supposed to be here... A've knocked out three of 'em a'ready... but there's still three of 'em with yer dad...
Ray was seeing through the night as if it was as clear as the day, so he could clearly see Desmond's teary eyes. He wiped his tears and gave him a bag before making sure no one was coming that way.
–OK... now pack yer things... what's necessary, nothin' else. A'll go get yer father, until now, ye hide behind the sofa, in the livin'. OK boy ?
Too stunned to speak, the boy nodded vigorously and grabbed only the necessary things, like his plushy, his books, and a few clothes indeed.
Back in the corridor, Ray was slowly heading to the sassenach's room, as silent as a shadow, while spying on their conversation. The three agents remaining were all in the same room, as he thought, and one of them seemed to be the leader, holding the English archaeologist at gunpoint probably, that was their way to do after all.
–Once we're back at the Nest, you'll be able to focus on your work again. But trust me when I say you should begin to beg for the Condor's mercy.
Ray winced. That bloody Condor was still looking for archaeologists and historians, as it seemed, and it was everything but good news since he was a very stubborn bird. The sassenach didn't seem to be ready to give up on his freedom so easily.
–Well, tell him to go to hell and to say hi to his old cousin Satan.
–Careful, Bronev. Don't forget your son's life is at stake.
The Scottish man opened wide eyes. Bronev ? Like in "Leon Bronev" ? Oh, that explained a lot of things. Beginning with the reason why he was so encline to escape Targent's radars and surveillance for so long. But for now there was no time for questions, nor for a proper introduction. He sighed and took a deep breath before doing something.
He quickly switched off the lights in the room before bolting in and grabbing the leader's arm, the one holding the gun. By chance he knew that most agents were right handed, so he got it right even in a dark room. He brought the arm down and made him let go of the gun, while he was trying to defend himself. The two men holding Bronev were surprised to see nothing anymore in a matter of seconds and his instant of surprise was enough for the archaeologist to step on one's foot and give a punch in the stomach of the second with his elbow. They grip loosened and Leon took the arm of the first one, punched the second one right in the face and sent him to say hi to Morpheus quite quickly. The first one was trying to reply with a right hook but Bronev was quicker. He bent down and stood straight after the punch went over his head, grabbed the man by his jacket and punched him in the stomach before hitting his head against the wall. This one too went to say hi to the king of dreams. And as quickly, he switched on the lights.
During that time, Ray had taken the gun from the leader and was now the one holding him at gunpoint. But this one knew who he was and he looked at him with frightened eyes, since his sunglasses had fallen on the floor and the light was emphasising his fear.
–I knew someone was accompanying Bronev but I didn't know it was you...
–Thank God A swore ne'er to go back to that life aga'n, or else A would've ended yer pathetic life right now.
But instead of shooting, he took the gun by the canon and hit him with the cross to make him fall unconscious again. Before Brinev could understand anything, Ray was already grabbing the bag with the clothes in it, took everything that seemed to be researches and put it in the bag too, before running down the stairs, followed by a very worried English archaeologist.
–Don't look at me like that, sassenach, we're in a hurry. Others will come, there's a train in the next town leavin' tomorrow mornin'. A know a place we'll be safe.
–We ?!
Ray didn't even bother to answer Bronev's interrogation since there was no time and he smiled when he saw Desmond being hidden behind the couch.
–Right, balach beag, ye've ever got on a motorbike ? Because A'll drive ye to have a nice trip in train.
Desmond was even more confused than before and he looked at his father who was completely losing it.
–Why ? Why helping us and coming with us ? I thank you for the... erm... rescue... but-
–We'll speak later, sassenach. For now let's get ye both to safety, OK ?
Leon knew thus was a big risk. Bigger than any risk he had already taken, but they didn't have a choice anyway. He patted his son's shoulder and nodded.
–Alright... Let's do this then.
With a common sign of the head, they rushed out of the house, all three, and went on the motorbike. When the men in the house woke up, no one else was there.
———
Sitting at his desk, the silhouette of a man was answering a phone call. It was very rare to have someone call him, and more rare was he answering it. But this time it was different. This was an important phone call.
–... I see...
A slight smile appeared on his lips but no one could see it. He hanged down the phone and chuckled a bit. This was absolutely perfect.
–Well well well... isn't it interesting...
He looked down at his desk. On it, there was a record, filled with notes, reports, and observations. He took a photo among them and stared at it for a few seconds.
–Run, you clever boy... and remember...
His smile on this instant would've frozen a corpse.
–Big Brother is watching you~
-> First chapter
-> Previous chapter
-> Next chapter
It's been a stressful week so I worked on this to cope with anxiety X'3 I can't do something too big ( I'm working on my phone so not easy peasy lemon squeezy ) but I'll probably continue if I have time and energy to waste on this silly concept 🙃
Looks like Claire is not that impressed by the Captain X3
And looks like the Captain knows more about the Azran gold that he would tell ~
OK, so in case you didn't know, I LOVE crossovers X3 sooo since the italian voice actor is the same for the two characters and since I FREAKING LOVE PIRATES AND POTC, here is a little something XD
Don't look at the shitty moonlight >< I am zero with colours and lights X'3
I should study ; I'm exhausted so I treat myself with drawing things I like.
Clearly, Ford doesn't like Rania. She's always secretive, she usually seems joyful until she meets him or Stan. Thr only thing he knows is that she's keeping secrets and he doesn't want her to mess with him, his brother or the kids. Plus, her "capacities" are not to his liking, at all.
She spends a lot of time with Mabel, the girl is teaching her knitting and she likes it, it helps her relax and it's so satisfying.
She visited the Shack once but seemed pretty amused by most of the stuffed animals and all. However, she went once to Gravity Falls' Museum and she felt awkward, strange... as if there was always someone watching her.
No one knows why she came to Gravity Falls, but she's determined to stay as discreet as possible, for an unknown reason as well.
Mimi, a little french girl, fan of Professor Layton games, write and draw sometimes, love stories and drama a lot more that I should
85 posts