Mulching the garden, mostly, while trying to remember how to program the sprinkler system, as Seshat sits over there, singing wistfully atop the golden egg.
Oz is only so mysterious behind the curtain, can barely remember why Dorothy broke her silver heals, and is concerned as to what will happen when he forgets he has nothing left but similar shade to offer her in return.
Nonetheless, for all these feminine mirrors about me, there is no role more manly, than that of a snake in the garden, offering up golden apples to its tenders.
Funny thing is, I remember specifically saying I'd never make a dev journal, but seeing as how that was due to how it'd cut into development time... THE END OF MSC All the games and social systems I have, willingly, been a part of, are designed to help people, see people, as people. The hope...