Ohm

A Dark Room [Synonym]

Thanks. I feel the same about it.

A Dark Room [Synonym]

<sup>𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔, 𝚏𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑—𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜; 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝚈𝚎𝚝, 𝚊 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚌𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚐, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎, 𝚗𝚎𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚘𝚛, 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢. 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛-𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍-𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.</sup>

Word association Game!

Power.

Spam Tier List

I've had maybe two of these.

Bot Detection Thread

roleplayerguild.com/users/syahrool - Advertising a "rustic wood dining table" website.

Associated Threads:

• roleplayerguild.com/topics/198071-sol…
• roleplayerguild.com/topics/198072-rus…

E: Would make sense if I pinged a mod. @LegendBegins

Ꭼꭲꭼꭱɴꭺꮮ Ꭲꮋꭱꮻɴꭼ

The fault is mine for the campaign stagnating. I had a bit of burnout, then multiple life events compounded at once and I was, suddenly, without internet for a while. We can still continue if everyone wishes, though I wouldn't cast aspersions if you'd rather move on.

What Are You Listening To?

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<sup>𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜
𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝙸 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝
𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛
𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚝

𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢
𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎
𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜,
𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎?
𝚁𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛
𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚛?
𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢</sup>

£ 𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 £ - A Murder Mystery RP

E D W A R D

^{“𝚈𝚘𝚞…𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖…𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?”}

The question kept Edward up all night. He didn't feel like leaving his suit for a pair of silk pajamas, no matter how frequent the staff were in asking him to change. It was like they were desperate to do their jobs for fear of having their livelihoods taken away from them. He replayed the events of the conversation with Adeline in his head, of the words spoken he couldn't bring himself to give sound. He knew Adeline was getting off scot-free; perhaps it was for the best. She may have been flighty, but she wasn't a murderer. Perhaps that was the best reason why she could be, but he chose to believe otherwise. He could see it in her eyes when she slipped beneath the shade of Benoit's car door. They were the eyes of a lost lamb in a den of wolves.

In the morning, Edward did his best to straighten the suit in which he slept and free it of wrinkles, though he largely didn't care at that moment. A short combing and a few spritzes of sea salt and cedarwood later, and he was suddenly in the Sprinter van, opting for the backseat with a clear view of the rear window. Behind his shades, he watched conspicuous cars pull out of parallel parking and trail the van for a mile, flashes breaching their front windshields, and he sighed. Someone in the team must've tipped off the paparazzi, though these days, those flagrant, soulless beings just somehow knew all the information. They camped out in their cars, in trees, in any place they could get a vantage point. Though the walls of Blackstone Manor were high, the paparazzi's penchant for bullshittery was mountainous.

By the time the van reached the offices of Royson & Browne, there were no photographers in sight, but he wouldn't have been surprised if they decided to swarm the steps leading up to their door. However, the trek inside was largely ineffectual—a silent ascent into the belly of a beast who held the last words of a dead man. All of this played like a slot machine in Edward's mind as he took his seat at the large pill-shaped table. He wondered how many families were here before them, awaiting their scraps like starving dogs, as they were about to do.

The scent of Edward's cologne was almost immediately decapitated by a guillotine of sharp vanilla as Kayleigh Waters, his father's personal assistant—and, much to his mother's dismay, his 'new car'—invaded the room like a virus. Edward conjured up the amusing idea of lighting every cigarette in his case at once, though the thought of so much smoke in the room was inconvenient. Edward was silent as she addressed the room with a rather backhanded remark.

“𝚂𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚒𝚝?”

Kayleigh, for all her worth, was probably innocent, though another funny, even more fucked up thought emerged in Edward's brain. Perhaps the family should band together and frame her for Anthony's death. They all didn't like each other much, but they all liked her less.

Edward watched Ryland, his mother's personal lawyer, prepare the statements of the will, as he listened to the short exchange between Kayleigh and his mother. Say this for Regina Blackstone—she was sharp-witted and could make comebacks like none other. Edward earned his silver tongue and stripes in wordplay from her, there was no doubt. As he reminisced earlier days, his attention was taken to Katherine, who had set her phone on the table rather purposefully. Eyes on her, he waited as if expecting her to speak.

A Dark Room [Synonym]

I ended up getting ready for work, anyway. Bills can't pay themselves, but it would be nice if they could.

A Dark Room [Synonym]

I'm chilling, biding time until I have to get ready for work. Listening to music, thinking about playing a game, so on. I noticed you flair your posts with a lot of ASCII art. It's a nice touch; I wish I had that attention to detail.