12-11-2018, 11:33 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Surprisingly or not, Orpheus was hardly a religious person. He grew up in a world that made him feel more and more alone with every passing day, drowning in immorality and pain. That sounds so ridiculous, like the start of some hero's life — or a villain's. But the truth he'd come to understand was that there was nothing spectacular about imperfection. Having an unhappy life, being unhappy, didn't inherently make someone better or worse. It contributed, but everyone had their own options. He's pretty off topic now — so far from it — but to boil it down to the basics... the idea of helping people write to a "high power" has the lion feeling conflicted. Papercrown and asked so politely, and he wasn't one to shame another for their beliefs, or even to contest them. And — well, maybe he was somewhat curious about what they would say to another higher power, or to Santa, who Orpheus actually had believed in for a long time. That part wasn't so bad. Writing letters had never been a part of his Christmases, but he'd only had three. If he could make it special for someone else — why not, right?
So the colorful lion had set up a station of sorts, with paper both colorful and plain, pencils and crayons and stickers. This wasn't just for children, after all. It was all a little bit plain, placed neatly on a low-sitting table in the main area of the observatory. Part of him wants to keep decorating, paper snowflakes and cheerful glitter, but instead he settles for a elf hat on his head and a sticker to his chest (which will likely be a pain to get off later, with the thicker fur in that area; oops) that reads "Santa's Helper" in a light but legible cursive. "If anyone wants to write a letter for the holiday season, I'm here to help!" Orpheus calls out, paws kneading on the ground for a moment, his own childish excitement dragging up a very old habit. Now was the season for it, right?
So the colorful lion had set up a station of sorts, with paper both colorful and plain, pencils and crayons and stickers. This wasn't just for children, after all. It was all a little bit plain, placed neatly on a low-sitting table in the main area of the observatory. Part of him wants to keep decorating, paper snowflakes and cheerful glitter, but instead he settles for a elf hat on his head and a sticker to his chest (which will likely be a pain to get off later, with the thicker fur in that area; oops) that reads "Santa's Helper" in a light but legible cursive. "If anyone wants to write a letter for the holiday season, I'm here to help!" Orpheus calls out, paws kneading on the ground for a moment, his own childish excitement dragging up a very old habit. Now was the season for it, right?
[align=center][img width=300]https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/c43c2c6d-b9e5-4952-a3d7-4db10fd90fe6/dcwzlwz-724bba54-d4ca-433b-ad25-a4a33df0b505.png/v1/fill/w_1175,h_680,strp/ded_lion_by_bluiestar_dcwzlwz-pre.png[/img]
I HAVE TROUBLES EVERY DAY BUT IT TURNS OUT FINE
[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;color:black;margin-top:-5px;margin-bottom:5px;"]｢ ❝ it turns out fine, and i fight to keep them all away ❞ | [color=black]biography – [color=black]tags ｣