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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jan 18, 2016 23:21:25 GMT -5
Arthur was the very proud proprietor of The Retrouvius Society, a large, two-leveled, but still cosy and booming shop that held intrigues for both the mythics and humans alike. The third and fourth levels of the building serving as living spaces. It was unique in and of itself for both worlds essentially mixing into one. Arthur certainly didn’t discriminate between the two when it came to doing business, he would take both of their currencies or be just as willing to exchange items of equal value. The interior of the shop welcomed people in, with the heavy, deeply scarlet drapery over the windows, the heavy mahogany furniture, shelves, and upholstered sofas of that same deep scarlet close to the bookshop section around every hidden corner. It was a place that individuals came to linger for a couple of hours unless they were in an obvious hurry. And it was certainly a place that offered enough intrigues for hours of exploration. There were books stuffed in nearly every shelf of the bookshop section, filled with a variety of subjects, some of them rare and mysterious, others filled with lighthearted tales and folklore long lost to human or mythic memory.
And the other shelves on the opposing side of the shop offered other mysterious intrigue, trinkets seemingly from other worlds entirely, oddities, or something as innocent as an intricately woven blanket and locally grown herbs for their own guiltless or devious purposes. It was a bustling and lively place, and for all the listed reasons that his patrons would give, Arthur loved his shop. And as such, he took it very seriously. The man was always dressed sharply, albeit maybe a touch dorkish, with his dark-knit trousers, tightly pressed button downs, vests, along with the occasional brightly red, or green, ribbon tie about his collar. The shop proprietor was confident, even if a bit arrogant and smug at times. He'd also gained the reputation of being quite ruthless in his business when he needed to be. It wasn’t usually needed or necessary, but dealing with a variety of creatures with a variety of eccentricities, offering various levels of danger, he knew when to be cautious.
Arthur had grown up around mythics, with his human mother having been in a long and dedicated relationship with one for many years. One who’d grown to be more like a father-figure to Arthur. And it was through this man that he knew quite a bit about the world of mythics and how they operated. In this sense, he was a rather savvy businessman, always walking a very thin line between both worlds.
As such, given how much he loved running this business, The Retrouvius Society was open very late into the night as well, to service those more active in the nightly hours. And whenever Arthur couldn’t find someone to run the shop in those late hours, he would take on a few night shifts himself throughout the week.
This was one of those nights.
The streets were alive with the nightlife crowd, both for the night owl humans and the mythics who favoured the dark. Warm light spilled from The Retrouvius Society’s windows, mostly from lamps, lit candles throughout, and antique wooden and metal chandeliers. At the moment, the shop was only mildly busy, with some individuals reading in the bookshop section, sprawled on the comfortable sofas, and others browsing and asking Arthur the occasional question about what the shelves housed.
Eventually, Arthur found himself contained alongside the front desk, wearing his usual clothing, dark trousers, comfortable leather shoes, a charcoal vested button down, and a scarlet ribbon tie, loosened only slightly while he did his work. Reading glasses were perched over his nose while he went through his list of inventory that needed restocking along with a list of requested novelties by his more loyal patrons. Whenever a request came through, Arthur usually worked his damnedest to obtain it. That was part of the game, after all. His pleasure. The young man was in his elevated chair, situated alongside the desk instead of behind it so that he could immediately get up and assist a customer if he needed to. Arthur was currently rather languid in his posture, one leg over the other, one elbow resting against the desk while his body leaned to the side, green eyes scanning the papers, a pen loosely held between his fingers.
Whenever a patron or wanderer came in through the door, a light bell would ring, alerting Arthur to their presence. Those eyes would break away from his papers, giving them a quick once over along with a polite greeting. He normally didn’t like to bother his customers unless it was clear in their manner that they needed something promptly. For now, most of the ones in his shop were either browsing or lounging, and that was perfectly fine with him.
... Tag // Francis Bonnefoy
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Apr 24, 2016 7:06:30 GMT -5
Blue eyes watched the door of The Retrouvius Society for a time now, watching the coming and goings of the patrons. He hid himself in the darkness, letting no light shine upon him. If he focused, he could have heard the heartbeats of each individual person in the shop at this time. But he didn’t. There was no point in it, and it would do to make himself hungrier than he already was. That was the main reason we he was here after all, to pick up his (hopefully) monthly supply of synthetic blood before he had to result to finding a victim more often than he cared to admit.
He was a vampire, and not a young one either. He had control of himself, enough control that this mild hunger was only a small annoyance for him. But Francis hated annoyances, found them beyond irritating. Hence why he was here at all.
The owner of the shop was a specialist in the occult; anything that the mythic wanted he was sure to find. Francis couldn't remember how long he was been a customer of this store, but it was the only place he could get his elixir of life.
Basic blood.
Or not so basic really, as he had to pay a decent amount, but from what he could tell, the price was about right and he wasn't being cheated. It was very unwise to cheat a vampire.
Finally when everyone was settled, and so was Arthur, the owner, he entered the shop proper and looked around. Peering out from under his hood, he could see that there was a few new things in the shop, some of very high quality, and some only trinkets that were meant for the normals who visited the shop. Walking forward, he let his fingers trail carefully over the shelves, not one thing out of place. Approaching the desk, his hands left the wood and he laid his hands on the desk, trying not to smile beneath the cloth.
"Is my package ready Arthur? I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a... hurry tonight."
And by that, he meant he was hungry; he could already start to feel the burn in his throat, the scratchy sensation that proceeded the driven focus to find blood. It was not easy being a vampire who lived mostly off synthetic blood. He had to feed from a living source at least once a month, but if he ignored it, ignored all blood, which he tried when first changed, that would be bad for him and his potential target.
Shifting from one foot to the other with a bit of agitation, he kept his focus on Arthur, forcing himself to blink like a normal human as he waited on his friend to tell him if he had his supply or not.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Jun 11, 2016 20:01:02 GMT -5
Arthur heard the soft chime of the bell as the shop door opened. His eyes trailed up from the paperwork, peering over his reading glasses and picking out the features of the cloaked individual moving about between the shelves. Observing the sure way that he walked, it was clear that he already knew what he came here for, not the browsing and curious sort. And so, Arthur sat a little straighter in his seat, putting down the papers, and was already starting to remove his glasses from the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the marks that it left behind. He immediately recognised the vampire, a now common enough patron who was usually only interested in one commodity that Arthur provided. It was a pricey one, but the price reflected how difficult it was to procure.
Arthur watched unflinchingly, and perhaps vaguely intrigued, when Francis finally drew closer after the last shelf, approaching his desk. He pressed the end of his pen against the corner of his mouth, calmly watching as Francis laid his hands over his desk. A rather ostentatious fellow, wasn’t he? But regardless, Arthur knew what Francis meant by his words, the slight testiness in the way he moved. He was hungry.
”Yes, it’s ready. One moment,” Arthur responded, pulling himself up from his seat and making his way into the backroom where he kept most of his special orders. Unlocking the door, he flicked on the light and reached for one of the taller shelves. When Arthur reemerged, he was carrying a medium sized box. ”The usual payment, if you will,” he added. Moving to the other side of his desk, right alongside Francis. Crossing his legs, he leaned back against the wood as he opened the box, pulling out the blood substitute, all packaged very nicely in a wine bottle. It was easy to pass it off as something a little more innocent, just in case others noticed it. The hunters didn't need evidence that Arthur supplied to their kind. Not that he was entirely off their radar. No, far from it.
”If I may… I suggest that you drink now before venturing into the streets. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you don’t look well.” Of course, by that, Arthur was just reaffirming that urgent look in Francis’s gaze, the way his body shifted in agitation. That, and Arthur was perhaps a bit bored at this hour with so few customers, when there was very little to do other than assess his inventory. He reached behind his desk for two of his glasses, raising them slightly as if to tempt him for a somewhat longer stay.
”I’ll have something far lighter, of course,” by lighter, he meant something else entirely. He also reached for an already half emptied bottle of Riesling that he’d started on a little earlier in the evening. Whether Francis decided to accept or not didn’t really matter, Arthur fully intended on drinking.
... Tag // Francis Bonnefoy
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Aug 12, 2016 5:46:34 GMT -5
Francis watched the way Arthur moved, watched everything from the way his fingers bent went taking off his glasses to the way the pen pressed against the flesh at the corner of his mouth. He even saw how normal and regular his heartbeat maintained as he approached the human… Francis was almost amused as this was likely the one human in existence who wouldn’t show fear at a hungry vampire approaching him. He kept his chuckle inside as he knew it would agitate his raw throat. How had he misjudged his hunger level… had he really kept such poor track of the days since he had last fed? No, it wasn’t that, it was because of the last vampire gathering and the sires had gathered the usual people, but Francis didn’t partake in the activities to enhance the longevity, to take the flavor to the next level… and the willing victims didn’t fill him up like they should have. He didn’t know why, but he had drank his bottles quicker after that… Perhaps the human he had been given to drink from had been sick so his body had rejected the blood that much faster? He would never know, he just knew that the hunger had crept up on him. He would have to lodge a complaint with the person who set these affairs up.
”Yes, it’s ready. One moment,”
He just nodded that he had heard Arthur as the man headed into the backroom. He didn’t know how the man did it, but he always came through for him. Though, he didn’t know if the man always moved as slowly as he seemed to tonight, or if that was just because Francis himself was in a hurry to sate the calling his in body for what it needed, and that calling made time seem to move slowly in its pace. He listened to the movement of footsteps, to the beating of the steady heart as the package scraped and things were moved. Finally as Arthur emerged, he tried to keep himself normal, keep a normal relaxed stance, but he couldn’t help but to rock forward on his toes a bit. The answer he had been seeking was almost in his grasp, almost free of the hand that scratched at the inside of his throat, demanding to be let free.
”The usual payment, if you will.”
Carefully, he reached into the pocket of his pants inside of his cloak and took out his wallet. He missed the olden coin pouches sometimes, but these things were much easier to carry, and so was the paper money and the plastic cards. Taking out a few of the larger denominations of money he carried, he slid it across the wooden desk towards the man, not saying a word more. He was paying attention to the grain of the wood and now how the man’s neck sloped up at such an inviting angle… he really was going to have to loge more than a complaint with the people who had set up the party, this was dangerous.
”If I may… I suggest that you drink now before venturing into the streets. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you don’t look well.”
Grunting, he hesitated and nodded. That was good advice and really, he was being smart here. It wasn’t safe for Francis to go back out in the dark where he ruled and there could be any number of people that could have crossed his path that would tempt him more than his bland blood wine did. Carefully, he moved to sit on the desk, uncaring if people were watching his unusual behavior. After all, it was an unusual shop and some behaviors could be forgiven.
“Then let’s have a drink Arthur and raise my spirits. Perhaps that is exactly the remedy I need before facing the harsh, cruel world.”
His accent was slipping into more of a French drawl and some of his words even sounded weird with that given that his fangs were showing. He owed Arthur more than the man probably realized. He waited for Arthur to pour himself a glass of his fine blood wine, and only once he had taken the first drink and had felt his teeth retract, that’s when he would lower the hood, for then he knew that his human guise would be back in place.
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on May 10, 2017 23:01:21 GMT -5
Arthur thought that the vampire appeared far more famished than when he typically saw him, which either meant that Francis was behaving more reckless than he should in the dark network of streets, or simply hadn’t seen him soon enough. Although, Arthur recalled Francis coming in at the usual time, as his books reflected the usual prices being paid every other week. When Francis slid over the payment, Arthur took it quickly, securing the payment before the blood wine had been put forth.
When Francis accepted his offer, Arthur slid himself up to sit on the desk alongside him. The man rarely ever paid attention to the patrons of his shop because they rarely ever paid attention to all the oddities that happened here. He poured himself a hefty serving of his own decidedly blood-free wine. The corner of his lips raised slightly with Francis’s words. ”So, we’re drinking away our woes tonight? Mm, perhaps I can drink to that… Raising your spirits can only sufficiently done with liquor, in my opinion.” He responded with a soft sort of cynicism, giving Francis a half amused glance as he raised his own glass to his lips, enjoying the subtle warmth that came with a good wine.
His gaze caught the way that Francis’s fangs retracted, that animal edge that oftentimes touched the male, even when he wore his human guise. Arthur always saw it, no matter how well he seemed to hide it, but perhaps it was because he always perceived the rougher appearance that any non-humans naturally carried with them. Arthur was typically drawn to it and it may have had something to do with why he decided to go into this business. Arthur rested one leg over the other as he settled back in his seat on the desk, still holding his wine glass. ”So, tell me, Francis… what about this harsh, cruel world requires you to have your spirits raised, hm?” he asked, softly playful in his words as he took another long sip. Oftentimes, Arthur drank to get drunk, so once he opened the bottle, it probably wouldn’t stay there for very long. He wanted to feel the effect.
Setting his glass down for a brief moment, he got up from the desk. ”One moment…” he murmured. Arthur walked over to flip the sign that notified others that the shop was closed. It would keep others from coming in while giving the few patrons still on the inside time to finish browsing and making decisions over what to purchase. And once he’d finished with that, Arthur moved to sit back where he had before, resuming his delicate hold over the wine. It was an unspoken maneuver to let Francis know that he wasn’t under any time constraints. Arthur typically let Francis stay late, even if the shop had long closed. The man sometimes teased Francis that it was preferential treatment for his favorite customers.
... Tag // Francis Bonnefoy
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Jun 8, 2017 19:41:35 GMT -5
As the wine poured, the coppery smell of blood tickled Francis’ nose and he nearly groaned with want. His hand tightened in his cloak, his iron self-control nearly breaking as he wanted to snatch the whole bottle and down the thing. His body near demanded he do that, but his pride, which was currently stronger, wouldn't let himself show weakness such as that when others are around. ”So, we’re drinking away our woes tonight? Mm, perhaps I can drink to that… Raising your spirits can only sufficiently done with liquor, in my opinion.” “Something like that….”Carefully reaching to take the glass in hand, he was careful not to scratch Arthur’s skin, he raised the glass to his lips and let the liquid pass his teeth and roll over his tongue before swallowing. It was only now that Francis allowed a deep groan of pleasure to be heard, as the blood soothed his scratchy throat and he could feel the tingling of it starting to be absorbed into his system. He couldn’t think of anything else right now except this glass of his life source, the only thing protecting some innocents past the door that would be all too easy for him to leave through. It was only once the glass was finished that he lowered it, his body satisfied enough to let his fangs retract back into his gums. With that, he knew that the red that had been overtaking his irises would also be gone, leaving his eyes the normal blue color they were to the outside world. He was seriously going to have to put in a complaint to the others that arranged the get together tonight. ”So, tell me, Francis… what about this harsh, cruel world requires you to have your spirits raised, hm?”So he would have to tell Arthur what happened, but he didn’t want the rest to hear what he said. It wasn’t very often that a vampire admitted a weakness, and this was a major weakness that he didn’t want anyone else to find out. He didn’t even know how it had happened, but it did, and now he was paying the price for it. If he found out that it had been on purpose, someone was going to pay. ”One moment…” Watching him move to the door and flip the sign over, Francis was glad that no one else would enter, but he was still worried about the few who were there. Putting the glass down, he lowered his hood to reveal a normal looking man who had a smirk on his face… though perhaps he still looked a bit strained around the eyes, his hair a bit to limp, his skin just now starting to take on a slightly rosy tint instead of a sallow tone. “It is a dark, cruel world indeed, but it is not something to be said where others may hear. We all have secrets that we don’t want out, but I’ll tell you eventually… just once we’re a bit more… private. Its not something I want more than you to hear.”He whispered that to Arthur, loud enough that the other could hear, but he still leaned in close. Breathing in, he realized what a mistake that was when he caught the scent of Arthur, a scent he couldn’t place, one that belonged in the human world, yet didn’t…. There was something quite appealing about it and he had to pull back and swallow hard. He could hear the sound of Arthur’s steady heartbeat, and the fact that it was as steady as it was helped Francis. Carefully he moved to pour himself another glass of wine, sipping it. He hoped Arthur would understand the meaning between his words, that it was something he would tell when they were alone. He trusted Arthur… and perhaps it was foolish of him, but perhaps he was happy that he had Arthur in his life, to help remind him of what it had been like to be human… even if the time period was wrong. He needed to find a way to thank Arthur, and he would… when he could think straighter than he currently was and the declining need to bite someone had fully vanished. tag// Arthur Kirkland
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Post by Arthur Kirkland on Oct 8, 2017 20:13:02 GMT -5
Arthur’s eyes caught the little hints that gave away what a prideful creature Francis was; he’d been trained to always remain vigilant for details because they usually were the sort that lead him to a successful business transaction. It was clear in the tightness of Francis's expression that he tried very hard to hide away the weakness that trailed his kind whenever hunger stole their minds. He noticed with a mild curiosity as Francis's features returned to something deceptively more human. He could see the blue of his eyes and not the monstrous red that stole away whatever human remnants remained of the man. Arthur sometimes wondered when those human remnants would permanently disappear into the folds of time, how long it typically took for a vampire to become more vampire than their former selves.
Even so, he couldn’t help looking forward to their little business transactions and the interweaving of conversation and company that sometimes followed or preceded. Their meetings were always laced with a taste of danger simply because of what Francis was, but Arthur found that he craved living with that sense of heightened risk from all his clients. It was an addiction; perhaps an addiction that would someday bring a terrible end to his life. But, for the meantime, it was something that he lived for, just the same as any other adrenaline junkie in the world. He simply liked to think of his addiction as more refined.
Arthur glanced at Francis when he leaned in close and whispered his response. He saw the shift in him, the sudden tenseness in Francis’s throat as he swallowed tightly and with how quickly he leaned back. His own pulse lurched ever so slightly with the sudden closeness, and his acidic gaze didn’t stray from Francis, perhaps simply seemed invigorated and a little amused by it. The corner of Arthur’s mouth rose softly, a hint of a smirk before he left Francis to sip his wine so that he could attend to other customers. God, did he love his crazy-arse job.
”Noted,” he murmured under his breath, knowing that Francis could hear him no matter how softly he spoke.
Arthur’s pulse was under control once more as he made it to the next remaining customer, helping her to pick out a book for her unique interests. The other customer left without buying anything. Arthur completed the purchase with the woman at the counter. After she left, he moved to lock the door behind her as well as dimming the front shop’s lights. He also turned off a few of the intensely bright lights illuminating among the various shelves before returning to his desk along with his guest for the evening. Arthur reached for his own wine glass, taking a long sip and lowering his eyeglasses to the bridge of his nose as he jotted down the last of his bookkeeping for purchases made that evening.
After a long moment, also allowing Francis to sip a bit more at the rest of his blood wine, he glanced back up after shutting his books, ending another work day. ”Why don’t you come with me upstairs? I’m sure we’ll be more comfortable talking there. And no one walking past the front windows will notice me and attempt to ask for special requests.” It was extremely common, more so from mythics that he had a working relationship with. He was already leading Francis up the small metal spiral staircase tucked away in the corner of the building behind his desk and alongside the storage. It led straight up into the locked door of his living quarters. His home was the entirety of the second floor. The third floor was typically off-limits. ”Then, perhaps, you can tell me a bit more about this something that’s more suited for private conversations.”
Arthur flashed him another soft smirk before he managed to unlock his door, leaving it open for Francis to follow him in. He folded his reading glasses and set them aside, also shrugging out of his blazer as he turned on the lights to his place. His home had a cozy vibe as well as a curious one with several unique artifacts lining the walls. It was clear that his knack for collecting strange and interesting items extended past professional curiosity, a stimulation for his own inquisitive mind as well. ”Sit wherever you’d like.” Arthur was already starting to put together a haphazard meal for himself. He didn’t typically put that much energy into feeding himself, or cooking for that matter, unless he had time to do so. Tonight, it was reheated leftover stew. He also had some savory scones that he attempted to make a couple days prior. ”Would you like anything? …I’m not sure if you can still enjoy the taste of food or not.” Arthur spoke, a little distracted, as he started up his cooker to warm everything up, glancing over at wherever Francis had decided to investigate in his flat.
... Tag // Francis Bonnefoy
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Post by Francis Bonnefoy on Dec 3, 2017 11:26:50 GMT -5
As Francis sat on the counter, letting the blood soak into this system and relax muscles that he didn’t realize were tensed, he could only watch Arthur. The man was a strange one, and not just because he was sensitive. This was the man who had seen Francis feeding as a child and not run away screaming in terror. He hadn’t freaked out when they crossed path later in Arthur’s life either. That first new encounter was rather interesting to remember, at least he thought so. The man wasn’t afraid of him, though he knew how dangerous he could be. Even now, he had stood there as calm as could be as Francis was having issues controlling himself, not reacting in fright or in any way that would draw more reaction from his vampiric senses. Arthur seemed normal to a normal world, but he wasn’t. He had nerves of steel that no one could match. If the positions were revered, Francis was sure that his nerves would have been wreaking havoc along his body. Sitting on the counter, he tried to act as normal as a friend of the owner would, smiling lightly at the lady who was checking out, waving slightly even to try to get a bit of a giggle from her. He was back to his normal handsome self, so why not tease. As the lights lowered, Francis’ could feel his eyes adjusting to the change in light. Normal people might think it was dim, shadows everywhere and leaving it good for sleeping. To Francis, it was enough light, he could see near everything. Well, not everything, but enough that if he were hunting pray, he could track it easily. He continued to sip the wine, knowing he would need it if he didn’t’ want to accidently bite Arthur, especially not with the metal images he had given himself earlier with the way his throat curved at just the right angle and the way his breathing was soft and… shaking his head to get it back out of his head, he sighed. He knew the reasoning for this, and now to fix it, but he wasn’t sure he wanted too. Perhaps, he could come to trust Arthur fully, more so than just with the blood wine. While that was a huge trust, it was also a business transaction. This was different. Internally sighing, he almost wished he hadn’t held so hard to his humanity. But no, he was glad he still retained a lot of it, even if most of it was for the sake of his brother. ”Why don’t you come with me upstairs? I’m sure we’ll be more comfortable talking there. And no one walking past the front windows will notice me and attempt to ask for special requests.”“I agree…though I’m sure I could scare them off just as easily, but I don’t feel like it tonight, too much effort to be scary vampire. Plus I don’t need anyone on my tail.” He just chuckled as he checked his nails quickly before looking back up and smirking. “Though I’m sure you could scare them off on your own without the little help I could provide. Are you sure you don’t have part creature in you Arthur, you do get a little terrifying when you’re angry?”He couldn’t help but tease the man. He was comfortable with him, and it meant that he was more towards normal than he had been before. He did move to get off the counter, stretching. He followed Arthur upstairs, not worried about being stopped at the threshold due to the protective magic that most people didn’t realize existed. It was the protection of home that radiated to protect, but Arthur had already invited him in tonight. He wondered if Arthur knew of this, or if it was just an overlooked thing that just so happened to bypass tonight. Walking up the stairs behind Arthur, he did his best to sound like a normal human walking, actually having his footsteps sound on the metal. ”Then, perhaps, you can tell me a bit more about this something that’s more suited for private conversations.”Watching that smirk, he only smirked back, trying to figure out how he wanted to word this. It was straightforward really, but Francis had his pride and it was a matter of pride as much as it was a matter of revealing a weakness of his and his kind. But, he knew deep down that he could trust Arthur. Taking the invitation to sit where he wanted to, he browsed a few items that he had up here, a few trinkets before sitting in a chair at the table while Arthur was making himself some food. It felt a bit odd up here, but he was sure he would get used to it eventually. ”Would you like anything? …I’m not sure if you can still enjoy the taste of food or not.”“As much as I would like to accept, I cannot. Well, I mean, I can eat food… in a way, but it’s all tasteless. And I don’t think you would appreciate what I have to do to get it out of my system as I cannot digest it. So, just enjoy your food and don’t worry about me, I fed downstairs, remember?” He smirked as he sat about looking at an interesting set of salt and pepper shakers that he had. Sometimes he could only sit back and marvel at the inventions that this century provided. If people thought that the mystical were odd, perhaps they should take a look at the newer things that most people took for granted. Arthur Kirkland
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