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Mr.ElevenXI
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[in the morning, masses of SWAT teams arrive at the locked-down, high-security skyscraper belonging to Friederike Drachenstein- the second richest person in the world. For hours, they inspect the building for any forms of life- hundreds working at the building were murdered mysteriously. They release the lockdown, and eventually find a near-dead Friederike, rather Frankensteinish in appearance; heavily scarred, limbs stitched crudely back on, in some places even skin is patched back on, vampire-pale in color. The primary machine allowing the quadrillionaire to live, a recent breakthrough in science, is broken, liquid uranium-235 spilled everywhere. There appears to be an emergency machine attached to them, nearly out of power. They drag the quadrillionaire out of the building to medical attention. A few days later, the chaotic news is still sinking in, and Drachenstein is out of the hospital, still Frankensteinish in appearance nonetheless. Their torn gray business suit has been replaced with a new unscathed one, however. They sit in their deluxe, highly comfortable chair behind their desk, looking out the wall-window into the city, fingers pressed together near their chest like a proper businessman.]

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[in the morning, masses of SWAT teams arrive at the locked-down, high-security skyscraper belonging to Friederike Drachenstein- the second richest person in the world. For hours, they inspect the building for any forms of life- hundreds working at the building were murdered mysteriously. They release the lockdown, and eventually find a near-dead Friederike, rather Frankensteinish in appearance; heavily scarred, limbs stitched crudely back on, in some places even skin is patched back on, vampire-pale in color. The primary machine allowing the quadrillionaire to live, a recent breakthrough in science, is broken, liquid uranium-235 spilled everywhere. There appears to be an emergency machine attached to them, nearly out of power. They drag the quadrillionaire out of the building to medical attention. A few days later, the chaotic news is still sinking in, and Drachenstein is out of the hospital, still Frankensteinish in appearance nonetheless. Their torn gray business suit has been replaced with a new unscathed one, however. They sit in their deluxe, highly comfortable chair behind their desk, looking out the wall-window into the city, fingers pressed together near their chest like a proper businessman.]

gDxVzjW.gif

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[in the morning, masses of SWAT teams arrive at the locked-down, high-security skyscraper belonging to Friederike Drachenstein- the second richest person in the world. For hours, they inspect the building for any forms of life- hundreds working at the building were murdered mysteriously. They release the lockdown, and eventually find a near-dead Friederike, rather Frankensteinish in appearance; heavily scarred, limbs stitched crudely back on, in some places even skin is patched back on, vampire-pale in color. The primary machine allowing the quadrillionaire to live, a recent breakthrough in science, is broken, liquid uranium-235 spilled everywhere. There appears to be an emergency machine attached to them, nearly out of power. They drag the quadrillionaire out of the building to medical attention. A few days later, the chaotic news is still sinking in, and Drachenstein is out of the hospital, still Frankensteinish in appearance nonetheless. Their torn gray business suit has been replaced with a new unscathed one, however. They sit in their deluxe, highly comfortable chair behind their desk, looking out the wall-window into the city, fingers pressed together near their chest like a proper businessman.]

gDxVzjW.gif

[10/10]

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*sighs*

I noticed...

What's wrong, alza?

*places a teaset on the table*

*sips on her own*

 

*stares at her cup*

Lillian... I heard the conversation you had with Isabel..

I understand you didn't know how you felt.. but you could have said something to me anyway..

*sighs*

I see..

*smirks and sips her tea*

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*stares at her cup*

Lillian... I heard the conversation you had with Isabel..

I understand you didn't know how you felt.. but you could have said something to me anyway..

*sighs*

I see..

*smirks and sips her tea*

Indeed.

*sips*

*sighs*

You're right...

I'm sorry, it's just...

I didn't know what to say, nor how to say it...

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Indeed.

*sips*

*sighs*

You're right...

I'm sorry, it's just...

I didn't know what to say, nor how to say it...

 

*puts her head on the table*

I-I know you didn't lillian..

I should have figured it out on my own..

I can read feelings just as well as my mother but..

Being near you clouds my thoughts..

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*hugs*

I feel the same way when I'm with you...

I spend every day just waiting to come back into your arms...

 

*hugs back*

I'm sorry I left without telling you anything.. I just didn't want you to worry..

I love you too much to make you worry..

*wraps her tails around lillian*

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[in the morning, masses of SWAT teams arrive at the locked-down, high-security skyscraper belonging to Friederike Drachenstein- the second richest person in the world. For hours, they inspect the building for any forms of life- hundreds working at the building were murdered mysteriously. They release the lockdown, and eventually find a near-dead Friederike, rather Frankensteinish in appearance; heavily scarred, limbs stitched crudely back on, in some places even skin is patched back on, vampire-pale in color. The primary machine allowing the quadrillionaire to live, a recent breakthrough in science, is broken, liquid uranium-235 spilled everywhere. There appears to be an emergency machine attached to them, nearly out of power. They drag the quadrillionaire out of the building to medical attention. A few days later, the chaotic news is still sinking in, and Drachenstein is out of the hospital, still Frankensteinish in appearance nonetheless. Their torn gray business suit has been replaced with a new unscathed one, however. They sit in their deluxe, highly comfortable chair behind their desk, looking out the wall-window into the city, fingers pressed together near their chest like a proper businessman.]

[A small beeping sound starts ringing through the speakers in their office, and Drachenstein presses a small button planted into their desk.]

"Someone's here to see you, Drachenstein. They say they need to.. talk to you in person."

[Drachenstein raises their eyebrows in mild surprise.]

Ah, yes, let them in. I'm dying to hear what the peasant wants to say.

"That was sarcasm, right?"

Yes, you idiot. I don't have time right now.

"Drachenstein, they really need to talk to you."

Gah! Fine, let them in.

[The delicately carved mahogany doors reinforced by steel slowly open, the doors face the back of Drachenstein's chair.]

[This is the part where someone here can take up the role of the person needing to 'talk'.]

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