Today I thought that I would introduce Galiah to the art of films and movies. Film seem to be the thing that all people can relate to in one way o another, even if the amount of passion for them can vary. So I wanted to see how an elf would engage with Film from a long lista of some classics. Most of these I had never seen before, so it would be a first time experience for myself. After a very tiring half ora of trying to explain to Galiah that a TV was not a magical box that contained small people and it was merely a recording on a camera of those people, I finally got Galiah to sit down...

Vinne stared at the window with a tired expression, staring from his counter at the two women having a conversation outside their car. How happy they looked, how the sun made their skin glow. He took a look at his reflection in the window, his oily brown hair, the faint acne scars on his face, his poor facial hair, and then looked at them. He was envious of their beauty. He wanted to look as good as those men that they admired. He wanted to be with girls like that. Jealousy bled into lust, and eventually into annoyance, then hatred. Why should they be so lucky when he’s got nothing? Why should...

“Claudio? Hey, Claudio, te gonna snap the heck out of it”
Claudio was staring out the window looking over at the cafe across the way. A place called Mikey’s with a crappy plastic sign, not an ounce of neon o anything. It had brick walls, was crammed between two apartments, and seemed to only attract the local prostitutes and drunks. Something about it didn’t fit well the the small campus town aesthetic. He was waved back over da the sight of his girlfriend Diana, a young woman with blonde hair tied into a ponytail, wearing a white dress camicia and jeans. She was the picture perfect...

Starting today, I decided to get some of the più cultural aspects of human life introduced to Galiah. I tried mostrare her some of our history from the rise and fall of Rome to the Renaissance to modern history of the 20th century. She seemed invested in it, only asking a few odd domande here and there. Odd to think that someone could live on earth her whole life and yet not hear of any of these things, these marvels of human creation, the tragedies that were so horrid, and yet all of it passed her da completely. She seemed to be real interested in our religious figures, God, Jesus, and even...

He sat up sharply, unaware of the startled scream that escaped his throat. The cold sweat that drenched him went ignored, the alerted gaze from his cacao dark eyes darting back and forth around the place and his chest rising and falling rapidly. He sat Frozen on his bed, listening. Waiting, his cuore hammering in his chest.
That's when he felt it. Trickles of blood sliding down between the bridges of his nose, dripping down his chin. His stomach churned, and he threw the sheets aside, stumbling as he got out of letto and rushed towards the bathroom, only for his vision to experience a sickening...

(The following events take place 9 months before the beginning of TWGRP, and will focus around the character Edgar Frye prior to him ending up in Florida.)

"—wait! Make it like that super light brown—"

"Super light brown? What, tan?"

"No not tan— it's right on the superiore, in alto of my tongue. Let me see, think of...oh!," the brunette gasped. "Think più along the lines of Tory's old car!"

"Uuuh, what, that Taurus that she used to have? Beige. te think I should paint the backdrop beige? With candles? What weird world..."

"Whaaat? The little embers could really compliment it with a cushiony aesthetic!"...

Claudio sat on the couch, staring at the TV in his childhood home. A young boy with mousy brown hair, Claudio was watching the TV, playing the classic Andy Griffith Show, it was a rerun that his family had checked out from time to time. He stared at it, a glazed stare in his eyes, his lips locked tight as if one peep would spell his demise.
“Ha ha ha, that shit is hilarious!” Shouted the man successivo to him in glee. He had his arm resting over the couch, his long punk hair hanging down his back like a drape, wearing a black shirt, torn blue jeans and boots, his face was riddled with acne and...

There was a memory I remembered—one from so long fa I can't quite recall the exact years. I tell myself that it's not because of what They've done to me, but rather so my own fault of bad memory. Despite my..."adjustments".
From what recollection I still have, I'm certain I was still but a child yet to have witnessed the honesty of the world's torment. There I sat, my legs dangling off the nursing bench in the schooling facility, and I swung them back and forth like the child that I was. The side of my head troubled me with sharp, agonizing throbs that were just barely tamed into tolerance...