affame_le_geant_mercurial
fyn gula perhaps at one time in our little known lives we have had something extraneous arrive at the door of our soul, something so bizarre, and fucking weird that there is absolutely no conceivable explanation how it happened, why it occurred, and where it came from

plain and simple, the laws of earthly physics are strict and usually prohibit such scientific abnormality. or we blink our eyes and say to ourself, "um...that didn't really happen." and we keep it to ourself and go on our merry way, whistling a christmas tune. or, maybe we do tell someone and they raise an eyebrow and later talk behind our back about what a loon we are becoming.

however, in kemulya and the island of rynomari, and especially where proina and the Army of Dissolution is involved, there is no such term as...

normal.

turn to copello's marox passian dictionary of the kemulyan language between the words "norma"
(a southern constellation) and "norman"
(those who occupy normandy)
and guess what?

the word "normal" does not exist.
physics, science, gravity, technology, etc.....all of them are as malleable as clay, loosely defined as the enormous, swamping things called pants that the z-dogs wear, as variable as mercury.



and so, when puppertwinkle leaped from the basket of the scooter, he did it with the complete confidence in tripod's victory. her vice grip on the sugar girl's face was consumate. she was completely helpless and there was no question that the motoguzzi soaring off the edge of the cliff had become a death trap.

the little dog, dependant on the great mother dog for protection and a safe landing from his perilous leap was very thankful to find himself injury free. perhaps it was the cushion that the saddlebags provided.

he hit the leaf-packed ground and rolled like a throw on a vegas craps table.

he was sitting there, collecting his wits, inspecting his body for pain or blood,bumps, or bruises, when he heard a familiar voice.

and here's where things get fucking weird.
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