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:wave:

Hey, peeps. I've been pretty quiet lately, and I am sorry.  I have been wanting to write an update for quite some time, but for once I really didn't know what to say.  I wish I could say that the past 6-7 months or so has been so busy because I was really happy.  I changed jobs, ButterBean got some much-needed repairs thanks to a little help from family and friends, and actually seems settled down (for the moment, knock on wood, cross your fingers and pray pray pray!) I sold my first real piece of artwork, and I created the first 3 pages of my story.
Those are all great things, amazing things.  I am grateful for all of them.

I apologize for the following rant.

I don't know what's wrong with me.  I guess I am just plain unhappy. Actually, I think I'm scared. My new job is not the wine and roses it appeared to be at first. Oh, I know retail work can suck. I've known that for years, but I thought I could handle working in a place where I was familiar with the product-arts and crafts supplies and the like. 
The truth is this is one of the most miserable jobs I've ever held. This job has literally made me sick, and I'll probably have to go on high blood pressure medicine, but I'll talk about that later.

Initially, I was a certified framer, and it was all new, and I was starting to get some good practice in.  I was excited.  Then, my hours were cut down to almost nothing, and what little I had learned virtually vanished overnight.  I couldn't do the job they had trained me for, I couldn't keep up with straightening my section of the store. I couldn't meet their expectations then, or now. It feels like everybody is succeeding like it's nothing at all, and here I am, struggling not because I'm sloppy, but because I don't know how to be careful and fast at the same time.  I'm not fast at anything except reading.  I'm methodical by nature, and a perfectionist, so if the manager says everything has to be pulled forward to the edge, facing the same way, no empty spots, etc. that's what I'm going to do to every single little row, be it paint, pencils, brushes, jewelry, or now with the candy aisles.  I just plain don't know how to do that quickly and still have it look nice. It was far easier with books, CDs, DVDs, and so on. Now I'm a cashier, and hours are finally trickling in. I cannot tell you how heartsick I am. I can do a decent job, considering I had about 10 minutes of training and am still asking far too many questions to management's liking. I like the customers, and I like my coworkers all right, even though I still have to look at their name-tags to remember who they are. (Well, when you only work 2 days a week and the workers change, you don't get a chance to remember their names. I remember faces better than names.)

It's the job itself that's causing the most agony. Like I said, it literally made me sick. Starting back around Sept/Oct. I worked a full day there with a migraine. I was also scheduled to work my other job that night. As the day progressed, the pain got much worse, worse than any I've ever had before. I got home, ate some bread and took Excedrin. I went to try and rest for a few hours, but minutes later I threw up all over. That's never happened to me before. I tried to call in sick to my other job, but there wasn't time to find a replacement in so short a time. Oddly enough, the pain in my head stopped, and I was able to work the 8-hr shift.

I'll be honest, my head has never been quite right since. (All jokes aside, ha ha.) ;) I've been experiencing micro-headaches pretty much ever since. I say micro, but it's heavy pounding in time with my pulse. We think it's high blood pressure, because I can feel the pain shoot from my neck, through the base of my skull, and wrap around my head in huge pulses for a few, very painful seconds.The weird thing is when it happens: getting up, lying down, bending over, coughing...I can't even laugh too hard for fear I will have another attack.  I checked my BP at Wal-Mart, and it was 135/85. I was told the 85 was a little high, but otherwise not too terrible, thankfully. I recently posted on FB that I'm getting my first physical as an adult in early April. I've never had one because I've never had health insurance, or at least not for long. I have no idea where my cholesterol levels are at, or if I'm pre-diabetic. (genetic) I've never had a pap-smear, and I haven't had a pelvic exam since I was about 20.  I am doing better nutrition-wise, though. I've also been exercising more, and that has helped a lot. HPB is also genetic on both sides. I really don't want to take drugs, but until I get healthier, I must do something.

Anyway, I really wanted this to be the job where I could sink in some roots and stay for years. But that hasn't happened, and it kills me that I made such a humongous mistake and did so joyfully.  I did the exact same thing with ButterBean.  I love that car. I did from the first time I drove it, and yet it has cost me over $4000 worth of repairs.  I wanted help to either pay off the lien I still have on it, or get a better one.  I got some help from family and friends.  I even set up a GoFundMe page, and dreamed big.  Then I felt really ashamed, especially after reading what some other pledges were for. Trips to Hawaii as a dying wish, or a new wheelchair, or a mission trip...and I wanted to fix my car.  I am so very grateful for the help I did get; it wasn't for nothing, because BB has been fine since then. Yet I feel like I never deserved any of it.  Sometimes I really feel stupid.  I'm a leech!  I want to move out so badly. I am so ashamed that, as old as I am, I still can't take care of myself like I know I should. I really despise myself for that.

And yet, I feel like I'm an ungrateful spoiled brat.  How dare I even complain?  I got exactly what I asked for: a different job, a running car, and progress on my art and writing.

And that's where the fear and the negativity overpower me.  I've been trying to finally, finally put myself out there, and I. Am. Terrified. And I know! I know it's just in my head. I fight and fight and fight, but I get so tired, and I want to crawl back into my childhood and never come out again. I am sick. I am not crazy, but I know my mind is not right, and hasn't been for a long time. I've told stories about this before, about how the depression feels normal and feeling happy frightens me simply because it's so very foreign.  I've gotten a lot better at that than what it was years ago, but again, I get so tired. Depression really sucks, especially what I call the apathy bug. When the apathy bug bites, I have absolutely no ambition or enthusiasm at all. All gumption is sucked out of me and I'm just going through the motions.  Some people are worse and can't get out of bed, but I can do that much at least.  That's probably why I've denied it for so long. I'm not going to do that anymore.  Deny, that is.

And where is God in all of this?  

He's right here, and has been all along, same as always. I've always had a hard time knowing how to balance asking for help, and expecting to do the work myself. After all, I come from a hard-working family. I know nothing gets done unless you do it yourself. That's always been the kicker.  When do you ask for help, and when is it no longer asking, but whining? Because I feel like all I'm doing is whining. Poor me, poor me, boo-hoo; shut up, you pathetic wuss! (That was just a tiny, PG example of the carnage that goes on in my head.)

Fortunately, God would rather you whine to Him than not. Yell at Him.  Tell Him about your frustration, confusion, etc. I've done that many times. I know He's not going to take away the pain, because it's been one of my best teachers. Pain can be one heck of a motivator. I wish fear did the same to me, but instead it makes me freeze and shut down, and usually faster than before I can even process what I'm so afraid of. Still, He is here. I am positive He has sat with me and cried.

I don't have any idea what the best course of action is.  I know I need to leave the retail job, but I have to find something else to replace it, because security still isn't enough. And I have to keep working on my own stuff. Poetry, art, cartoons, writing...that's what makes me happy. That's what I have to work toward, and I have to make sure to take God with me in the future.

Of course, He's already there.
  • Mood: Regretful
  • Listening to: Gordon Lightfoot-Pussy Willows, Cattails
  • Reading: Books
  • Watching: People :|
  • Playing: Thief
  • Eating: 90% vegetarian. Nobody's perfect.
  • Drinking: Water
Ch. 7 Neural Networking

Standing in front of Captain Hunks was almost a relief.  Alice had to fold her hands to keep from saluting him.  She looked around the office, noting how even more cramped it seemed now that the membership had grown considerably larger.  She hoped civilian life hadn’t made her too soft.

Hunks looked at her and smiled.  “Some tea, Contessa?” he asked.

Hearing him say her noble title rather than her military title pained her, but she knew why he made the deliberate distinction.  As a noble, and not as a lieutenant, she couldn’t go around barking orders like before.  This “mission” was going to be very different.  To be technical, it was Oreldo who would be the highest ranking officer…by all outward appearance.

She shook her head.  “No thank you, Captain.  I’d rather we get right down to business.”

Hunks nodded.  He motioned her to the facing sofas and they both sat.

“All right,” he said.  “So what’s this about you returning to active duty?”

“It’s only a minor stipulation, sir,” Alice said.  “I know that Lt. Oreldo would be in charge, but in case it’s necessary, I want to be able to take command, should he or Lt. Martis become compromised.  If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to return to active duty, at least on paper.”

“Being a Contessa isn’t enough?”

Alice smiled.  Oh, how she had missed working with him.
 
“You know as well as I that nobles are still considered civilians.  The attack on the ball years ago proved as much.”

“I see,” Hunks asked.  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you comfortable with Oreldo giving you orders, Contessa?”

Alice’s smile grew sad.  Hunks kept using her noble title on purpose to remind her.
 
“Probably not as much as I should be,” she admitted.  “But I’ll get used to it.”

Hunks signed the forms on the coffee table and sat back, satisfied.  “Very well,” he said.  “Now, I know you will want the old crew back, but I actually need Sergeant-Major Stecchin to stay here.  She’s on a separate mission for me.  She’s been training Private Albrecht and crunching numbers with Lord Schultz.”

Alice was shocked.  “L-Lord Schultz?” she spluttered. “But…but he’s never said anything to me about working with you!”

“No, of course he wouldn’t,” Hunks said, his tone growing stern, “especially if it’s a covert operation investigating Marquis Hoost.  You know better, Contessa.”

Alice clamped her jaw shut and bowed her head. As the current head of her house and former XO of State Section III, Alice had a huge target on her back. Of course Schultz would have kept her in the dark.  He’d do anything in his power to protect her. This also made her realize how much stronger Schultz had grown.  Why, only years ago, after he’d heard about the attack at the ball, the poor man had broken out in hives and was bedridden for two weeks.
 
Alice smirked in spite of herself. Poor Schultz…he tried so hard. She almost wished she could return his amorous overtones, but she couldn’t. She made a mental note to thank him later.

“Why are you telling me now, sir?” she asked Hunks in a subdued voice.

“Because you’re returning to active duty, and you should at least be aware of what we’re currently working on."

Alice sighed and nodded.  “What else are you working on, sir?”

“Well-“

“HUNKS!”

Major Connery bustled into the office like he owned it.  He walked up to Hunks with a sheaf of paperwork.  “From the top.” He turned to Alice and gave a curt bow.  “Ma’am,” he said.

Alice nodded in reply.  She looked back and Hunks and knew immediately something was wrong.  Although Hunks’ expression remained neutral, his breath had changed and his fingers were frozen.  Everything in her screamed to know what had him spooked, but she knew better to speak out of turn, especially with Connery standing right next to her.  Ally or not, Connery was still dangerous.

“Well,” Hunks sighed.  He didn’t even try to hide his sarcasm, “If the top brass says it’s all right, then it must be.”

Connery smirked.  “Naturally,” he said.  “I trust you’ll handle things as you normally do.”  He turned to Alice.  “My lady,” he began, and Alice was surprised to hear him speak in a cordial tone. “I want you to know I fully support your endeavors.  I have been told the Grand Duke himself is sending a person to spy for the Emperor.  Is that true?”

Alice regarded him with a cool stare.  Very few people outside of the Imperial council knew about that.  Connery’s network was faster than she’d remembered.  He must have improved it over the past two years.  It wasn’t a matter of which councilman was blabbing.  They all did in one way or another, but who owned the major?

“Yes, Major,” she replied, “it’s true.  His Grace wants to ensure all goes well.”

Connery waited for her to elaborate.  When she didn’t, he frowned.

“I hope whoever he sends has enough good sense to stay out of the way,” he said, curling his upper lip in a sneer.

“I’m certain whoever His Grace chooses will be a helpful addition,” Alice replied sweetly.  Connery glared at her but said nothing more.  The invisible question had been given and answered.  Yes, an Imperial spy was going to be part of her entourage, and no, she didn’t know who it was yet, or, at least, she wasn’t telling.

“Thank you kindly, Major,” Hunks said, “it’s looks to be all in order.  Was there anything else?”

Connery shot a look at him.  “You’d better not be dismissing me, Captain!”

Hunks raised his eyebrows but otherwise kept his expression mild. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” he said, “It’s just that I’m sure the Contessa has much more important things to do than stay here talking to us soldiers.”

Connery’s grin returned and he nodded.  “Right,” he said, “she doesn’t need to know our military operations, does she?”  He turned to her and gave another curt bow.  “Contessa,” he said, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Still a hard ass, isn’t he?” Alice muttered before covering her mouth.  Oops.  She wasn’t supposed to speak like that anymore.

“A major pain,” Hunks replied without looking up.  She watched the corner of his mouth quirk upwards.  She snickered and motioned at the paperwork.  “I’ll only ask if it’s something I need to know, sir.  Otherwise, it’s probably best not to tell me.”

Hunks frowned slightly, considering.  He sighed.

“It’s regarding your entourage,” he said.  We, that is the army, are sending along a few extra people.”

He shuffled the papers and gave them to her to read over.  Alice looked them over but didn’t notice anything unusual.  

“What does the top brass care who comes with me?” she asked.

Captain Hunks turned to the third page and pointed a stubby finger.  “Because of that.”

Alice took a closer look.  She looked up at him in alarm.  “They want to send Corporal Francia?  The only woman who earned her way into Claymore One?”

“That’s right,” Hunks replied.

“Won’t that send the wrong message to the Republic, to use one of members of the ‘Sword of the Empire’ as a security escort?”

“The message will be ‘Don’t mess with us,’” Hunks offered, “and that we are watching every move they make with you...and the rest they can only speculate.  Think of who Princess Septieme sent when she invited us to the Halloween ball.  What message did that send?”

Alice nodded.  “Does the team know?”

“No, but they will,” Hunks said.  “You’re going to be the focus, so work with that over everything.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, automatically saluting him.  She caught herself and looked at him sheepishly.  Hunks smiled kindly at her.

“Don’t worry, Contessa,” he said.  “I’m actually glad to hear it.  It means you still think like a soldier.  But you will need both your noble sense and your military knowhow to make this mission a success.”

“I hope it will be, Captain,” Alice replied.  She grinned.  “Is First Lieutenant Webner taking bets on it yet?”

“The pot grew over five thousand within an hour, last I heard,” Hunks muttered.
 
Alice laughed. “Then I’m not too worried,” she said.  “If she thinks it can be done, then it must have a pretty good potential.”

She handed the paperwork back to him.  He reached for it, but placed a hand on hers and paused.  She looked up at him, surprised.

“There’s one more thing,” Hunks said.  “I know I don’t need to say this, but,”

“I know,” she said quickly. “This is just the first foray.  I won’t do anything to compromise the mission.”

“Even if I told you I knew in which prison to start looking?”

Alice gave a short gasp but collected herself.  She sat up straight, settling back into her military bearing.

“You must have a reason for announcing that,” she said.

“I do.”

“Please, tell me everything.”
Ch. 7 Neural Networking
UPDATE: Complete rewrite!

Hey, peeps! Sorry I was so quiet for a while there. My work schedule went through a major overhaul, plus I have a bunch of personal projects I'm working on! But I have not nor will I ever forget this story. I will not drop it until it is over, and I finally have some really juicy ideas I can't wait to play with! So hang on tight as I try to get this machine rolling again!
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Grandma M. by Wackyjax
Grandma M.
Quick sketch of my 96 yr-old grandma, Velma Melcher. :)
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:wave:

Hey, peeps. I've been pretty quiet lately, and I am sorry.  I have been wanting to write an update for quite some time, but for once I really didn't know what to say.  I wish I could say that the past 6-7 months or so has been so busy because I was really happy.  I changed jobs, ButterBean got some much-needed repairs thanks to a little help from family and friends, and actually seems settled down (for the moment, knock on wood, cross your fingers and pray pray pray!) I sold my first real piece of artwork, and I created the first 3 pages of my story.
Those are all great things, amazing things.  I am grateful for all of them.

I apologize for the following rant.

I don't know what's wrong with me.  I guess I am just plain unhappy. Actually, I think I'm scared. My new job is not the wine and roses it appeared to be at first. Oh, I know retail work can suck. I've known that for years, but I thought I could handle working in a place where I was familiar with the product-arts and crafts supplies and the like. 
The truth is this is one of the most miserable jobs I've ever held. This job has literally made me sick, and I'll probably have to go on high blood pressure medicine, but I'll talk about that later.

Initially, I was a certified framer, and it was all new, and I was starting to get some good practice in.  I was excited.  Then, my hours were cut down to almost nothing, and what little I had learned virtually vanished overnight.  I couldn't do the job they had trained me for, I couldn't keep up with straightening my section of the store. I couldn't meet their expectations then, or now. It feels like everybody is succeeding like it's nothing at all, and here I am, struggling not because I'm sloppy, but because I don't know how to be careful and fast at the same time.  I'm not fast at anything except reading.  I'm methodical by nature, and a perfectionist, so if the manager says everything has to be pulled forward to the edge, facing the same way, no empty spots, etc. that's what I'm going to do to every single little row, be it paint, pencils, brushes, jewelry, or now with the candy aisles.  I just plain don't know how to do that quickly and still have it look nice. It was far easier with books, CDs, DVDs, and so on. Now I'm a cashier, and hours are finally trickling in. I cannot tell you how heartsick I am. I can do a decent job, considering I had about 10 minutes of training and am still asking far too many questions to management's liking. I like the customers, and I like my coworkers all right, even though I still have to look at their name-tags to remember who they are. (Well, when you only work 2 days a week and the workers change, you don't get a chance to remember their names. I remember faces better than names.)

It's the job itself that's causing the most agony. Like I said, it literally made me sick. Starting back around Sept/Oct. I worked a full day there with a migraine. I was also scheduled to work my other job that night. As the day progressed, the pain got much worse, worse than any I've ever had before. I got home, ate some bread and took Excedrin. I went to try and rest for a few hours, but minutes later I threw up all over. That's never happened to me before. I tried to call in sick to my other job, but there wasn't time to find a replacement in so short a time. Oddly enough, the pain in my head stopped, and I was able to work the 8-hr shift.

I'll be honest, my head has never been quite right since. (All jokes aside, ha ha.) ;) I've been experiencing micro-headaches pretty much ever since. I say micro, but it's heavy pounding in time with my pulse. We think it's high blood pressure, because I can feel the pain shoot from my neck, through the base of my skull, and wrap around my head in huge pulses for a few, very painful seconds.The weird thing is when it happens: getting up, lying down, bending over, coughing...I can't even laugh too hard for fear I will have another attack.  I checked my BP at Wal-Mart, and it was 135/85. I was told the 85 was a little high, but otherwise not too terrible, thankfully. I recently posted on FB that I'm getting my first physical as an adult in early April. I've never had one because I've never had health insurance, or at least not for long. I have no idea where my cholesterol levels are at, or if I'm pre-diabetic. (genetic) I've never had a pap-smear, and I haven't had a pelvic exam since I was about 20.  I am doing better nutrition-wise, though. I've also been exercising more, and that has helped a lot. HPB is also genetic on both sides. I really don't want to take drugs, but until I get healthier, I must do something.

Anyway, I really wanted this to be the job where I could sink in some roots and stay for years. But that hasn't happened, and it kills me that I made such a humongous mistake and did so joyfully.  I did the exact same thing with ButterBean.  I love that car. I did from the first time I drove it, and yet it has cost me over $4000 worth of repairs.  I wanted help to either pay off the lien I still have on it, or get a better one.  I got some help from family and friends.  I even set up a GoFundMe page, and dreamed big.  Then I felt really ashamed, especially after reading what some other pledges were for. Trips to Hawaii as a dying wish, or a new wheelchair, or a mission trip...and I wanted to fix my car.  I am so very grateful for the help I did get; it wasn't for nothing, because BB has been fine since then. Yet I feel like I never deserved any of it.  Sometimes I really feel stupid.  I'm a leech!  I want to move out so badly. I am so ashamed that, as old as I am, I still can't take care of myself like I know I should. I really despise myself for that.

And yet, I feel like I'm an ungrateful spoiled brat.  How dare I even complain?  I got exactly what I asked for: a different job, a running car, and progress on my art and writing.

And that's where the fear and the negativity overpower me.  I've been trying to finally, finally put myself out there, and I. Am. Terrified. And I know! I know it's just in my head. I fight and fight and fight, but I get so tired, and I want to crawl back into my childhood and never come out again. I am sick. I am not crazy, but I know my mind is not right, and hasn't been for a long time. I've told stories about this before, about how the depression feels normal and feeling happy frightens me simply because it's so very foreign.  I've gotten a lot better at that than what it was years ago, but again, I get so tired. Depression really sucks, especially what I call the apathy bug. When the apathy bug bites, I have absolutely no ambition or enthusiasm at all. All gumption is sucked out of me and I'm just going through the motions.  Some people are worse and can't get out of bed, but I can do that much at least.  That's probably why I've denied it for so long. I'm not going to do that anymore.  Deny, that is.

And where is God in all of this?  

He's right here, and has been all along, same as always. I've always had a hard time knowing how to balance asking for help, and expecting to do the work myself. After all, I come from a hard-working family. I know nothing gets done unless you do it yourself. That's always been the kicker.  When do you ask for help, and when is it no longer asking, but whining? Because I feel like all I'm doing is whining. Poor me, poor me, boo-hoo; shut up, you pathetic wuss! (That was just a tiny, PG example of the carnage that goes on in my head.)

Fortunately, God would rather you whine to Him than not. Yell at Him.  Tell Him about your frustration, confusion, etc. I've done that many times. I know He's not going to take away the pain, because it's been one of my best teachers. Pain can be one heck of a motivator. I wish fear did the same to me, but instead it makes me freeze and shut down, and usually faster than before I can even process what I'm so afraid of. Still, He is here. I am positive He has sat with me and cried.

I don't have any idea what the best course of action is.  I know I need to leave the retail job, but I have to find something else to replace it, because security still isn't enough. And I have to keep working on my own stuff. Poetry, art, cartoons, writing...that's what makes me happy. That's what I have to work toward, and I have to make sure to take God with me in the future.

Of course, He's already there.
  • Mood: Regretful
  • Listening to: Gordon Lightfoot-Pussy Willows, Cattails
  • Reading: Books
  • Watching: People :|
  • Playing: Thief
  • Eating: 90% vegetarian. Nobody's perfect.
  • Drinking: Water

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Wackyjax
JackieH
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Christian, artist, poet, writer, storyteller. Old enough to know better, young enough not to care. ^^ Oh, and I'm a bonefide Cheesehead. Currently working 2 jobs, trying to find my way in the world.

Current Residence: Wisconsin, USA
Favourite genre of music: Hard Rock, Christian, Pop, Nature, Classical
Favourite photographer: Everybody in National Geographic
Favourite cartoon character: Calvin and Hobbes, Garfield, Bugs Bunny, Ebenezer & Snooch <-(www.twolumps.net)
Personal Quote: Just do what you can with what you have.
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:iconapparition-studios:
apparition-studios Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the watch
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:iconwackyjax:
Wackyjax Featured By Owner Feb 20, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
YW! :aww:
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:icontsartastic:
tsartastic Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2015
Thank you for the fave on the title page of my comic! I hope you'll read the rest of the chapter, too.
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:iconwackyjax:
Wackyjax Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
You're welcome! :aww:

Cool! What's it about, if I may ask?
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:icontsartastic:
tsartastic Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2015
Read it and find out. It's only one chapter long so far.
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:iconcey-cey:
cey-cey Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Professional Interface Designer
thank you...
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:iconwackyjax:
Wackyjax Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
YW! :aww:
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dragonwolf1775 Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Danke for the :+fav:!
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:iconwackyjax:
Wackyjax Featured By Owner Feb 2, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
YW! :aww:
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ARVEN92 Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thanks for the watch :)
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