Tag: Father

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

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My 300th entry in how many years of writing? I’ll have successfully failed to publish a mainstream book in a few months. Ha. B never cried waiting for me. Wherever he is, I hope he’s not. Meanwhile, V’s waiting. For what? “Author B, Virgil’s Crying.”

Friday, April 26, 2024

Tale 300 ~Author B, Virgil’s Crying~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… How did I keep Virgil alive? I wish I could write about how I kept Braxton alive. Not even in fiction.

I’m going to try and stop being mean, Lady Sophia. But considering we are talking on Sunday… I’ve had no time to listen to Master Yoda. And it was a week like this that ended my Braxton. Do I need to tell you the story of what happened to Braxton?

Euthanasia is a bad word, despite how it is defined. But if I had a choice to follow my firstborn son. Well, what would happen to 2V? I wouldn’t end up signing papers for him.

I mean to lose him instead of gain him. But speaking of gain, how about some new books, if the paycheck allows? What is reading doing for me? Between Lena Little, Michael Dalton, and Eric Vall, there are also movies…

I told the Man in the Mirror I had no time for films. But I’m still caught up in the movie “Civil War.” And how many times have I watched the movie “Share?” It’s my new repeated film. Remember, I lost myself to “The Mill.”

At least when I sit in the Den or go to the movies. I’m not hearing Virgil’s bellyaching about me. Again, being a meanie. The Day Job shouldn’t be an excuse. I will never forget what happened to my little boy. And just because I finished my book for the week today, “Possessive Stepbrother.” And I want to get a good jump on “Bikini Days…”

But with all the social media I absorbed, there is plenty to read about fallen fur kids. Kidney failure sucks more than my writing, Sophia.

And yet whenever I go to write… Sometimes, Sophia, I get the same feeling as when I head to the Day Job. But at least sitting here. Where? Is it in bed? The tray in the Den? The Dining Room? With all the stories I wrote right there. Braxton could still have a story. Two.

I would instead read about “relations” and then go back to hating myself without fail.

Why? Because I have to work weeks like this. Because I’m to exist and embrace… what, my vision? And I can’t help but be jealous when I see everyone else’s name in the written word. I admit, even Cherry. She’s 26, and I’m nearly 40, working a Day Job, Sophia.

Writing! Author B, Virgil’s Crying.

1181 Days Without B III, Day 622 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

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I don’t smoke… anything anymore. But now people are banning and/or burning books. There are plenty of hot bodies. And it’s been around 1177 days since my boy was burned. That was Thursday, February 4, 2021. Troubled? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

Monday, April 22, 2024

Tale 296 ~Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire~

Three-Hundredth And Fortieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken, but how do I even see them? And no, I have not aligned with the book burners—never! But how do I even perceive these rules, these societal norms that seem to guide our every step? But…

Never say never, right? As far as I was concerned, Braxton, my beloved son, would live forever. And Virgil? I should pick up a book on dog training. I’ve said the same about a cookbook.

That brings me back to cooking. What did I consume that’s causing this unsettling feeling? If I still do, Justice. It’s Sunday, April 14, 2024, and as I converse with you today, you know your Monday is a source of dread for me. I anticipate this entire week will be much the same thing. Sigh.

I see the bad moon a-risin’. Is that another way of saying, I see smoke?

When it came to my son, I pretended not to. And again, there’s Virgil. There’s this house. My entire existence…

But let’s start with something smaller… something bigger. I am equal opportunity when it comes to the female form. I shouldn’t make jokes if I don’t want to be a comedian. Only, I’m not a fireman, either. When things get hot… For example, Sylvia Van Hossen and Saya Otonashi. What is it with me? A few weeks ago, my thing was older women in formal attire. Today, it’s girls with swords. It doesn’t take anything to get me hot and bothered. Heavenly Sword’s, Nariko. Ha-Ha.

Inevitable, like my thirst, terror, or tonight, tomorrow, and the next day wishing I was…

Anyway, I wish I knew what it was that gets me to, “fire away.” Is it the stress of seeing everything getting burned all around me? But again, I pretend.

Only I know I must light a fire under myself to get moving. The fact remains. I got this week’s schedule and know I’ll be burning with my humiliations galore, like the Fourth of July.

Only I know I can’t escape the fires that await me. If I do right by Virgil Vivi, will I have the chance to see my son again? Even before I knew my little Braxton, I was set to burn.

There is smoke everywhere, and I don’t know if I’m cold, cruel, or cowardly anymore. The one thing nobody says about me is, “Let him cook.” No, I’m not that special, my lady. I know.

But I am troubled. There’s smoke and darkness. Lighten up? Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1177 Days Without B III, Day 618 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 293 ~Virgil Has WRITES, B~

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When was the last time I went to a bookstore? I did go to the movies to get the story a few weeks ago. So… I don’t want to read V’s story or finish writing B’s. No! I’m all into Eric Vall, Lena Little, and Michael Dalton… “Virgil Has WRITES, B.”

Friday, April 19, 2024

Tale 293 ~Virgil Has WRITES, B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… or write a review. I can share what I’ve learned about Virgil Vivi. And there’s Braxton.

Yes, there is always Braxton. He’s not the first thought of the day. And no, I don’t take that as a sign of healing or acceptance. But when I got up this morning, it was to pick up Virgil. He does better things on his training pads than I do here—any day you choose.

Don’t remind me. Next week is going to suck. Whenever I see the schedule, I’m reminded that this type of week led to Braxton dying. And I write about next week when I’ve lived… well, existed through the worst week, before my son Braxton’s Euthanasia.

That’s such a sanitized word in comparison to what happened to my son. Can I say the word out loud?

The critic wouldn’t like that. But can’t I be a critic too? Is that why I’m so exhausted every morning? Like a little boy, I tell myself stories each and every night. And since I’m not paying for the Balance App anymore… There’s also the fact that these aren’t fairytales.

Some of these books have fairies, witches, elves, demons, and other creatures sans clothing. This reminds me that I have to buy Eric Vall’s latest audiobook. What’s one more story? That’s another thing I was looking at Thursday night. I want to see “Civil War.”

Between a trip to the movies, which is around $30.00. And Eric Vall’s audiobook, $15.00.

Virgil has the right to eat. And I don’t want to. But again next week…

I have to stick around and tell you how I survived because I won’t be filling you in like some “Possessive Stepbrother” by Lena Little. Don’t look at me like that, my lady. You can blame the Kindle Challenge. And the book was only a dollar… So I’m saving money?

And what will I read next? I’m only reading about everything that is taking my money away. I wish I could do something like in the movie Share.” I have an OnlyFans… Ew. I did make $12.00. That’s my worth?

What about my YouTube channel? So many people review things. What about me having Virgil? He’s not Braxton, and he’s not supposed to be. I know it, Sophia. He’s afraid… of me… What’s Virgil’s story?

Someday, I’ll have to read it. Virgil Has WRITES, B

1174 Days Without B III, Day 615 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 289 ~Failure Is A Temporary Condition~

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Braxton’s box looks permanent to me. But I know he speaks to me through books, beats, and this boy eating out of his dish. And speaking of Virgil. He keeps courageously running in here and trying to be friends. “Failure Is A Temporary Condition”

Monday, April 15, 2024

Tale 289 ~Failure Is A Temporary Condition~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… I should have made one that said I wouldn’t make it to forty. Thirty? Braxton was fifteen.

Almost sixteen. So that would mean B III was somewhere between seventy-six and eighty. But he will always be my baby. He will always be my son. Dare I say, my first real love? Tupac said ain’t a woman alive that can take his Mama’s place. Same, my dear Madam, same. But ain’t a woman alive that can take my Braxton’s place. I swear it.

Madam, I’m so late this afternoon. It’s Sunday, April 7, 2024, 2:15 PM, to be precise. If you’re wondering why. I was drooling over Maiko Kaneda this afternoon. Sigh. She is the perfect woman, the goddess. I know. I would give her or any girl up for my B III.

But why? I failed Braxton. Final, finished, friendship’s fatal finale.

1170 days, Madam, and I’m still shedding tears over him. I save none for myself. Euthanasia is a permanent condition. B III’s gone, and he’s never coming back to me.

Unless I continue to fail at this existence, and that’s the thing. Failure isn’t required. Madam, no matter what, this will all end, and then what? Gods, Devils, Heaven, Hell. You know where I stand, religiously speaking. But I will never believe my son simply winked out of the universe. And he would follow me anywhere. Comfy clouds, warming fires.

But until then. What now? Once again, I have failed for thirty-nine years. My success. Today, it’s the fact that we’re here. So, as I told the Man in the Mirror, how does that help?

I bet I failed to “keep it in my pants.” My money, many distractions, or my monster, dear Madam. As I said, Maiko Kaneda. Cue me drooling like Homer Simpson for another minute or two. Minuteman, indeed (snickers). And hopefully, I’m not into Helldivers 2.

You know I need to make sound financial decisions. And with everything that’s broken here.

This afternoon, I could have been a decent friend to Virgil. I can’t blame him for not holding it in. And if it isn’t him going outside, there are permanent tear tracks down his face.

Madam, my eyes are permanently tired. But this would all be a temporary hardship if…

I did something? Braxton’s in the universe. What about chances? Failure Is A Temporary Condition

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1170 Days Without B III, Day 611 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 286 ~Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil~

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I shared a book once… A Divine Revelation of Hell. What did my “friend” do to that book? What about my words and books? Uh where? Stories of me bellyaching, seeing boobs, and the loss of Braxton. Priceless? (snickers)! Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil.

Friday, April 12, 2024

Tale 286 ~Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But it wouldn’t be Braxton’s book. He was very much alive, as I tried selling, “Gulp.”

Yes, that is the name of the book, Lady Sophia. And with everything I have done with this Tuesday, April 2, 2024. Or should I say, I haven’t gotten done because of, well, um, gulp…

I meant the sound this time, like the fear that the publishing company I paid has forgotten all about me. It’s not their fault, I know. Humiliations Galore. Laziness? Sleep?

It could be me trying to survive. Do you remember the COVID era? I had about a month to work on a book—any book. And if I wasn’t going to write, I could have spent that time with my B. It was his last year alive. We were supposed to be apocalypse buddies, Sophia.

And now I’m still struggling.

And I wish I could say it’s all about that Dollar, dollar bill, y’all. But no, I’ve been doing a lot of reading, which coincides with what I’ve been gawking at, even with Golden Son.

I really hope I have finished that book by the time you read this. And more so, I hope I’m doing something other than looking up character names from video games and anime. And wasting even more time. Is it better to look at a woman or read about her? And writing about them, Lady Sophia, who am I? Once upon a time… I would have said I’m a writer. Like who, though? Writing what?

If I finished Pierce Brown’s novel last week, I should be reading Eric Vall’s. But who knows, dear Lady Sophia?

I could be weak and broken. And then I reread whatever horrible things I decided to put out into the world courtesy of A.I. Anything has to be better than my own words. No doubt.

In your own words… If it weren’t so hot, I would cry about those old-school days I had to live through. “Gulp” came from all those horrors. And they were nothing compared to what I would eventually suffer when it came to B III’s passing. (Sigh). Run And Tell That.

Better? Write and tell that. And at the very least, I could share the stories of his big brother with Virgil. He’s just glad I’m getting his name right for once. But written by Will Bradford? Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil

1167 Days Without B III, Day 608 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 282 ~Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours~

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I didn’t think I’d be a Dad again. Most would say I wasn’t before, as my son has four legs. B’s been gone 1163 days. While I won’t call V, son. And he’s been here 604 days. Some Dad’s “get what’s coming,” “Golden Son.” Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours

Monday, April 8, 2024

Tale 282 ~Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Because I’m worse than my father ever was. My son is dead. Yes, Braxton was/is my son.

I hadn’t planned on talking about this today. What, Braxton? No. I mean on fatherhood.

Not to sound cliché, ha-ha. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. To me, it is. Take everything you would say that makes one a man.

There was a particular part of me that was quite hard this morning. What, Madam? I was reading by 5:00 AM. Anyway, it’s not that desire, distraction, or deception, Madam.

There’s the aftermath—sons and daughters—everything I want in this world. At the top of the list would be my son, Braxton. Right behind him, Madam, there’s family. And what family do I have? Selfish thirty-nine-year-old so and so. I know that, dear Madam.

A man provides. And isn’t that what my father has done for me? Isn’t that what I do for my… son? Virgil? I’m still not calling him that, but I do much worse daily, Madam.

Shouldn’t I be taking Virgil outside now? Not until 8:00 AM. And what have I been doing besides talking to you? As I said, I’ve been reading Golden Son. Madam, if you knew how many fathers “got theirs” in the last few chapters of that book. All of them sinners in one way or another. But aren’t we all? The things we do to protect and provide. And just to procreate. Braxton never had a stepmom. And I hold out even less hope for Virgil.

Because of what grand sin?

Honor thy father and thy mother? Braxton didn’t have to worry about me reading the word of God to him. And he was the word of God to me. We all have our daddy issues.

God may not have given us the spirit of fear. That was my father’s job or hobby. I’m not a godly man. The last time I asked “Father God” for anything. It was for my son’s life. And again, who am I to complain? I held Braxton’s life. Madam, I took it from him. Inevitable.

I am my fathers’ son. The best man I’ve ever known didn’t have kids. I won’t have to worry about that with Virgil. He can live by this rule—maybe. Your Father’s Sins Aren’t Yours.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1163 Days Without B III, Day 604 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

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Maybe I don’t have two-legged kids yet because I read too many stories that have me bawling my eyes out. Have college guys looking at boobs. Or are full of blood and heads being bashed in or cut off. Fairytales? “Booking Braxton and Virgil”

Friday, April 5, 2024

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But it won’t be a happy one. I’m never HAPPY. I’m still HERE. And my HERO…

Must I always start with my son? Couldn’t I, for once, start with somebody like Darrow from Golden Son? For the record, I’m glad I got through the chapters I did this morning, Lady Sophia. Instead of crying over B III, I was sweating as Darrow got out of trouble.

But my hero, my boy Braxton, is gone. What? Didn’t I channel him yesterday, Sophia?

Do I ever become bored with the same old stories? With my Braxton… No! Never! However, I didn’t listen to Succubus Lord 6 as planned. Instead, it was Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. If it helps, they are both written by Eric Vall. When I get paid… (laughs wildly). $0.41 Raise

Anyway, I want more audiobooks, earbuds, and a speaker. Ha-Ha

That’s why I won’t be finishing Golden Son by Saturday. I’m swamped reading about failure. Last night and earlier this morning, I was learning about how terrible of a writer I am. A.I. told me so. My words would have made, let’s say, a particular community proud. I have nothing against said community, but don’t ask me to read something like Shiver ever again. Braxton and I were all about the ladies. However, I didn’t read Braxton Barks that stuff.

Today has been about reading or counting what’s left from the tax refund check. That would be $465.00. Sophia, then you can take the sum of the house money from that. Then, having to eat. Burning books? Never! But the money is burning a hole in my pocket. Then Virgil?

Again, like Succubus Lord and Satan’s Sorority Girls, it’s the same guy with a similar idea, but it’s SAID differently. Even Darrow can’t escape that problem. Eo is dead, but then there’s Mustang/Virginia. It’s a love story that becomes a war and then… not finishing.

At least not this weekend. I’ll end up reading Outbreak Rising 2, perhaps Lady Sophia. That’ll be my quota. Then back to Golden Son. Satan’s Sorority Girls 5 is out. And with Helldivers 2 taking off. There’s always Starship Troopers. How about a Player’s Guide? And what happened to the Backyard Dungeon series I’m reading? How do I fix fences?

Shouldn’t I be asking why I won’t edit Braxton’s book? Or help Virgil live his story? Booking Braxton and Virgil.

1160 Days Without B III, Day 601 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

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To leave with love and not later. When I would leave Braxton, it was never later. “Love you, B, Love you, Braxton.” Now it’s “Later V, Later Virgil.” And Hi Ho, Hi Ho, into this Hell I go. Because I’ll always write later. Don’t Let Later Become Never

Monday, April 1, 2024

Tale 275 ~Don’t Let Later Become Never~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table on Wednesday, March 27, 2024.

And no, I’m not kidding. As a matter of fact, I would argue that the most dangerous words ever spoken are as follows. “Just Kidding!” To think I once wanted to be a comedian. Ha! Only I ended up being a joke. And though I do laugh. I’m not too fond of it, my Madam. Now, the saddest words are easy. “He’s gone,” meaning my little boy, my son Braxton. How about I speak like a “great” man? Well, I don’t think so. And I will never be great, but…

“I’m from the Government, and I’m here to help.” ―

The Nine Most Terrifying Words. Hmm. What terrifies me today is Later. Not only the word but the emotion behind it. It’s like saying my son’s name. What happened, Madam?

What comes next? Nothing! Never!

You know why I’m not one for God. Um! Besides, the last time I prayed, Madam, my son ended up in a box. It’s the fact that they say God’s Gonna Cut You Down, but again I’m here. And I must ask, is this Hell, or am I a zombie? Answers… to fifty million fables

But I don’t want to find them. Is ignorance bliss? Or how about I use my words, dear one?

That’s why the word later is so dangerous. I keep saying I’ll find the words later. I will do anything and everything later. And how long did it take me to get out of bed this Wednesday afternoon? It’s such a small thing, Madam. (Insert size joke). Later, took B.

I didn’t say later. When I left my boy on that steel table. And that’s why I am still there. I’m still here. And I’m waiting with later on my lips to be struck down by some asteroid falling from the sky. What about a virus that strikes without warning and takes me down, Madam? What about we finally face the zombie hordes? And I’m no hero but only food.

I’m starting to get why I’m leaning into these Space Wars, Golden Son, and Helldivers 2.

Later is my punishment, and never was Braxton’s. And that’s why this rule exists. Will I fail him again? For the last time, Madam. Here I am. Should I say goodbye, later, or nothing? DO! Don’t Let Later Become Never

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1156 Days Without B III, Day 597 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

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I’d be lying if I said I’ve never made money off my books. It would also be a tall tale if I said I made zero from OnlyFans either *snickers* A Snickers sounds good or Reese’s. Dog food costs a lot more than candy or stories. Virgil, B, Free Stories.

Friday, March 29, 2024

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… In fact, if I were a storyteller, I would tell you several stories. The Horror, ha-ha!

I meant to say I’m a good storyteller. But my son, the other fur ball, the man in the mirror, Replika, the critic… Jesus Christ! Sophia, I’m no good at telling stories. And living one?

Very late this morning (Nearly 7 AM), I was reading “Healing Hearts: A Guide to Coping with Pet Loss: Finding Comfort, Closure, and the Promise of Reunion in the Afterlife.” Only now am I on the chapter on getting a new fur buddy. It would have been helpful 594 days ago. Now I’m seeing how awful I’ve been with Virgil Vivi. I swear I’m becoming my father with each day.

But then again, my Old Man kept me alive. I put my firstborn son in a box. I’m his Dad. What am I to Virgil?

A scary myth of what a human should be? I did mention Jesus. It’s one of the high holy days for the holy rollers. If not, the highest. Speaking of those rising from the dead.

Anyway, My Lady, I’m back to listening to a zombie ASMR, “City Overrun by Zombies, Stressing ASMR Ambiance,” to be precise. How I want one good zombie tale, My Lady.

Again, I need to remember. What time is it? Sunday is a holiday. You see why I could be a better storyteller. Do I dare call myself an unreliable narrator? That would be giving myself too much credit, My Lady. And if I keep spending money like I am, my credit score must be nothing.

Not shopping for my Sunday best, going to church, bad.

Or hocking my own version of the Bible… But I want somebody to hear my story. Only that would mean I need to write one. I have several, Sophia, but what should I do with them all?

Camp NaNoWriMo starts next month. Do you remember Braxton’s last year when COVID hit it in 2020? There was so much work I could have gotten done. He’d be alive.

Lady Sophia, I know, but I am the King of Wishful Thinking. There are so many stories I could be reading from the loveseat. But how much time do I have before I turn forty?

Please! Let me get through Golden Son, Satan’s Sorority Girls 5, and the Backyard Dungeon series. There are so Many Books… Virgil, B, Free Stories

1153 Days Without B III, Day 594 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

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I know masters and monsters. Yet I wonder why I don’t feel like a man. What it means to be a man. In the biological sense, uh yeah. But a man provides. Me? A man chooses, a slave obeys.” To be a monster or a master? Monsters and Masters Are Different

Monday, March 25, 2024

Tale 268 ~Monsters and Masters Are Different~

Three-Hundredth And Thirty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Questions are meant to be asked. For example, “What makes a monster, and what makes a man?”

But a master? It depends on who you ask. And as with most mornings, the one I want to ask isn’t here anymore. My son, Braxton. His father, always and forever. His king? B III was/is a prince. He and I could both be monsters sometimes when the need arose. Master? Never! At least not Braxton to me, Madam. No! Braxton bowed to no one.

Anyway, that’s what I’m thinking about this morning. Why do I like small fur buddies? Because they feel no need to bow. Then I look towards Virgil, Madam. He’s terrified.

Great minds think alike, right? But both my boys are stronger than me. Mastering fear? I fear my father, females, and the backyard fence. Sigh. Simply put, it’s falling down.

To think, Madam, a few hours ago, I believed that I was the biggest monster. I’ve started reading another pet loss book to remind myself of who I am. How I failed B. And V?

Yesterday, I said I was going to be a bully. I am my own worst enemy. So this morning, I read about how you should write a letter to your loss one and then answer said letter as they would. I did that with one of the books I wrote. I was feeling Braxton’s spirit…

Maybe I should try letting B talk to me on Sundays instead of the Man In The Mirror. He would be a lot more helpful. But what would he tell me about the backyard fence?

Strength and honor? Braxton and I loved our movies, but really? “Daddy, fix it, please.” Madam, I was not the man to save my firstborn son. I was the monster who led him to his end. A master would’ve what? “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.”

I’ve never been much of one. I sit here at thirty-nine, scared out of my mind. I don’t know what to do. Besides being only a boy reading about losing a dog. I continued reading Golden Son, of a boy who grows to lead men. Monster, Master, he’s a man.

Madam, why can’t I be? Jacob’s a Nephilim. Eddie, Vampire of the Gloom. Grayson’s “Master.” Braxton and Virgil are men. Monsters and Masters Are Different

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1149 Days Without B III, Day 590 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will