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авторам и разработчикам вселенной.
Администрация передает
им благодарность и поклон.

Производится набор игроков на
места канонических
и не канонических персонажей.
Администрацией приветствуются оригинальные
персонажи и желание играть.

Для одобренных персонажей идет игра.
Игра производится либо при непосредственном отыгрыше
с мастером, либо с игроками.
Просьбы отыгрышей ситуаций,
явлений, НПС и отсутствующих канонов
Шинигами в личку.

Реклама должна быть взаимной.
Для рекламы: ник - Реклама, пароль - 1234.
Взаимность проверим, не переживайте)
Сведения о мире
Наш сюжет
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Форма анкеты

Дискуссионный клуб
Поиск напарника
Доска объявлений(заданий) академии


Дата и время:

ранее день вторника. с 13.00 до 15.00

студенты Академии могут наблюдать объявления
о вечеринке в доме Шинигами-самы.
В некоторых местах
реального мира
наблюдается небольшая
облачность, без осадков.

Температура воздуха
Город смерти - +30С, ветренно

Shinigami-sama, Ashura
Aeon Clock Reeves
модераторы, игроки

Soul Eater


Если в течении суток в вашей анкете не появилось комментариев Ашуры, значит вам повезло и он не нашёл каких либо значимых недостатков. Приёмом в игру занимается Шинигами-сама. *записка на зеркале при попытке дозвониться до Шинигами-самы* "Покоряю творческий фронт, вернусь не скоро" Подпись: Шинигами-сама

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- Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
— Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought
So rested he by the Tumtum gree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wook,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
— And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.
— Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.



Fit the First       THE LANDING

          "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
               As he landed his crew with care;
          Supporting each man on the top of the tide
               By a finger entwined in his hair.

          "Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it twice:
               That alone should encourage the crew.
          Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it thrice:
               What i tell you three times is true."

          The crew was complete: it included a Boots -
               A maker of Bonnets and Hoods -
          A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes -
               And a Broker, to value their goods.

          A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,
               Might perhaps have won more than his share -
          But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
               Had the whole of their cash in his care.

          There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
               Or would sit making lace in the bow:
          And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
               Though none of the sailors knew how.

          There was one who was famed for the number of things
               He forgot when he entered the ship:
          His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
               And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

          He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
               With his name painted clearly on each:
          But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
               They were all left behind on the beach.

          The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
               He had seven coats on when he came,
          With three pairs of boots - but the worst of it was,
               He had wholly forgotten his name.

          He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
               Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
          To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
               But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!"

          While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
               He had different names from these:
          His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends,"
               And his enemies "Toasted-cheese."

          "His form in ungainly - his intellect small - "
               (So the Bellman would often remark)
          "But his courage is perfect!  And that, after all,
               Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."

          He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare
               With an impudent wag of the head:
          And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,
               "Just to keep up its spirits," he said.

          He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late -
               And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad -
          He could only bake Bridecake - for which, I may state,
               No materials were to be had.

          The last of the crew needs especial remark,
               Though he looked an incredible dunce:
          He had just one idea - but, that one being "Snark,"
               The good Bellman engaged him at once.

          He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
               When the ship had been sailing a week,
          He could only kill Beavers.  The Bellman looked scared,
               And was almost too frightened to speak:

          But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
               There was only one Beaver on board;
          And that was a tame one he had of his own,
               Whose death would be deeply deplored.

          The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
               Protested, with tears in its eyes,
          That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
               Could atone for that dismal surprise!

          It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
               Conveyed in a separate ship:
          But the Bellman declared that would never agree
               With the plans he had made for the trip:

          Navigation was always a difficult art,
               Though with only one ship and one bell:
          And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
               Undertaking another as well.

          The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure
               A second-hand dagger-proof coat -
          So the Baker advised it -  and next, to insure
               Its life in some Office of note:

          This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire
               (On moderate terms), or for sale,
          Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
               And one Against Damage From Hail.

          Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
               Whenever the Butcher was by,
          The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
               And appeared unaccountably shy.



Fit the Second      THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH

          The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies -
               Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
          Such solemnity, too!  One could see he was wise,
               The moment one looked in his face!

          He had bought a large map representing the sea,
               Without the least vestige of land:
          And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
               A map they could all understand.

          "What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
               Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?"
          So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
               "They are merely conventional signs!

          "Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
               But we've got our brave Captain to thank:
          (So the crew would protest) "that he's bought us the best -
               A perfect and absolute blank!"

          This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
               That the Captain they trusted so well
          Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
               And that was to tingle his bell.

          He was thoughtful and grave - but the orders he gave
               Were enough to bewilder a crew.
          When he cried "Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!"
               What on earth was the helmsman to do?

          Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
               A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
          That frequently happens in tropical climes,
               When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked."

          But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
               And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
          Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
               That the ship would not travel due West!

          But the danger was past - they had landed at last,
               With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
          Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
               Which consisted to chasms and crags.

          The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
               And repeated in musical tone
          Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe -
               But the crew would do nothing but groan.

          He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
               And bade them sit down on the beach:
          And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
               As he stood and delivered his speech.

          "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
               (They were all of them fond of quotations:
          So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
               While he served out additional rations).

          "We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
               (Four weeks to the month you may mark),
          But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
               Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

          "We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
               (Seven days to the week I allow),
          But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
               We have never beheld till now!

          "Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
               The five unmistakable marks
          By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
               The warranted genuine Snarks.

          "Let us take them in order.  The first is the taste,
               Which is meager and hollow, but crisp:
          Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
               With a flavor of Will-o-the-wisp.

          "Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
               That it carries too far, when I say
          That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
               And dines on the following day.

          "The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
               Should you happen to venture on one,
          It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
               And it always looks grave at a pun.

          "The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
               Which is constantly carries about,
          And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes -
               A sentiment open to doubt.

          "The fifth is ambition.  It next will be right
               To describe each particular batch:
          Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
               And those that have whiskers, and scratch.

          "For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
               Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
          Some are Boojums - " The Bellman broke off in alarm,
               For the Baker had fainted away.



Fit the Third       THE BAKER'S TALE

          They roused him with muffins - they roused him with ice -
               They roused him with mustard and cress -
          They roused him with jam and judicious advice -
               They set him conundrums to guess.

          When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
               His sad story he offered to tell;
          And the Bellman cried "Silence!  Not even a shriek!"
               And excitedly tingled his bell.

          There was silence supreme!  Not a shriek, not a scream,
               Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
          As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
               In an antediluvian tone.

          "My father and mother were honest, though poor - "
               "Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste.
          "If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark -
               We have hardly a minute to waste!"

          "I skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,
               "And proceed without further remark
          To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
               To help you in hunting the Snark.

          "A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
               Remarked, when I bade him farewell - "
          "Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,
               As he angrily tingled his bell.

          "He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,
               " 'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
          Fetch it home by all means - you may serve it with greens,
               And it's handy for striking a light.

          " 'You may seek it with thimbles - and seek it with care;
               You may hunt it with forks and hope;
          You may threaten its life with a railway-share;
               You may charm it with smiles and soap - ' "

          ("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold
               In a hasty parenthesis cried,
          "That's exactly the way I have always been told
               That the capture of Snarks should be tried!")

          " 'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
               If your Snark be a Boojum!  For then
          You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
               And never be met with again!'

          "It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
               When I think of my uncle's last words:
          And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
               Brimming over with quivering curds!

          "It is this, it is this - " "We have had that before!"
               The Bellman indignantly said.
          And the Baker replied "Let me say it once more.
               It is this, it is this that I dread!

          "I engage with the Snark - every night after dark -
               In a dreamy delirious fight:
          I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
               And I use it for striking a light:

          "But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
               In a moment (of this I am sure),
          I shall softly and suddenly vanish away -
               And the notion I cannot endure!"



а у меня еще спрашивают, зачем я школу над ним построил. Так поет хорошо!



Fit the fourth      THE HUNTING

          The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
               "If only you'd spoken before!
          It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
               With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!

          "We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
               If you never were met with again -
          But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
               You might have suggested it then?

          "It's excessively awkward to mention it now -
               As I think I've already remarked."
          And the man they called "Hi!" replied, with a sigh,
               "I informed you the day we embarked.

          "You may charge me with murder - or want of sense -
               (We are all of us weak at times):
          But the slightest approach to a false pretense
               Was never among my crimes!

          "I said it in Hebrew - I said it in Dutch -
               I said it in German and Greek:
          But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
               That English is what you speak!"

          "'Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face
               Had grown longer at every word:
          "But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,
               More debate would be simply absurd.

          "The rest of my speech" (he explained to his men)
               "You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it.
          But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
               'Tis your glorious duty to seek it!

          "To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
               To pursue it with forks and hope;
          To threaten its life with a railway-share;
               To charm it with smiles and soap!

          "For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't
               Be caught in a commonplace way.
          Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:
               Not a chance must be wasted to-day!

          "For England expects - I forbear to proceed:
               'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
          And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need
               To rig yourselves out for the fight."

          Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),
               And changed his loose silver for notes.
          The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
               And shook the dust out of his coats.

          The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade -
               Each working the grindstone in turn:
          But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
               No interest in the concern:

          Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
               And vainly proceeded to cite
          A number of cases, in which making laces
               Had been proved an infringement of right.

          The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
               A novel arrangement of bows:
          While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
               Was chalking the tip of his nose.

          But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
               With yellow kid gloves and a ruff -
          Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
               Which the Bellman declared was all "stuff."

          "Introduce me, now there's a good fellow," he said,
               "If we happen to meet it together!"
          And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
               Said "That must depend on the weather."

          The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
               At seeing the Butcher so shy:
          And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
               Made an effort to wink with one eye.

          "Be a man!" said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
               The Butcher beginning to sob.
          "Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
               We shall need all our strength for the job!"



Fit the Fifth       THE BEAVER'S LESSON

          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
               For making a separate sally;
          And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
               A dismal and desolate valley.

          But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
               It had chosen the very same place:
          Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
               The disgust that appeared in his face.

          Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark"
               And the glorious work of the day;
          And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
               That the other was going that way.

          But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
               And the evening got darker and colder,
          Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)
               They marched along shoulder to shoulder.

          Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
               And they knew that some danger was near:
          The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
               And even the Butcher felt queer.

          He thought of his childhood, left far far behind -
               That blissful and innocent state -
          The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
               A pencil that squeaks on a slate!

          "'Tis the voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried.
               (This man, that they used to call "Dunce.")
          "As the Bellman would tell you," he added with pride,
               "I have uttered that sentiment once.

          "'Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
               You will find I have told it you twice.
          'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
               If only I've stated it thrice."

          The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
               Attending to every word:
          But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
               When the third repetition occurred.

          It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
               It had somehow contrived to lose count,
          And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
               By reckoning up the amount.

          "Two added to one - if that could but be done,"
               It said, "with one's fingers and thumbs!"
          Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
               It had taken no pains with its sums.

          "The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.
               The thing must be done, I am sure.
          The thing shall be done!  Bring me paper and ink,
               The best there is time to procure."

          The Beaver brought paper,portfolio, pens,
               And ink in unfailing supplies:
          While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
               And watched them with wondering eyes.

          So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
               As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
          And explained all the while in a popular style
               Which the Beaver could well understand.

          "Taking Three as the subject to reason about -
               A convenient number to state -
          We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
               By One Thousand diminished by Eight.

          "The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
               By Nine Hundred and Ninety Two:
          Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
               Exactly and perfectly true.

          "The method employed I would gladly explain,
               While I have it so clear in my head,
          If I had but the time and you had but the brain -
               But much yet remains to be said.

          "In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been
               Enveloped in absolute mystery,
          And without extra charge I will give you at large
               A Lesson in Natural History."

          In his genial way he proceeded to say
               (Forgetting all laws of propriety,
          And that giving instruction, without introduction,
               Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),

          "As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
               Since it lives in perpetual passion:
          Its taste in costume is entirely absurd -
               It is ages ahead of the fashion:

          "But it knows any friend it has met once before:
               It never will look at a bride:
          And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,
               And collects - though it does not subscribe.

          " Its flavor when cooked is more exquisite far
               Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
          (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
               And some, in mahogany kegs:)

          "You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
               You condense it with locusts and tape:
          Still keeping one principal object in view -
               To preserve its symmetrical shape."

          The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
               But he felt that the lesson must end,
          And he wept with delight in attempting to say
               He considered the Beaver his friend.

          While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks
               More eloquent even than tears,
          It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
               Would have taught it in seventy years.

          They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
               (For a moment) with noble emotion,
          Said "This amply repays all the wearisome days
               We have spent on the billowy ocean!"

          Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
               Have seldom if ever been known;
          In winter or summer, 'twas always the same -
               You could never meet either alone.

          And when quarrels arose - as one frequently finds
               Quarrels will, spite of every endeavor -
          The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
               And cemented their friendship for ever!



Fit the Seventh     THE BANKER'S FATE

          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
               It was matter for general remark,
          Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
               In his zeal to discover the Snark

          But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
               A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
          And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
               For he knew it was useless to fly.

          He offered large discount - he offered a check
               (Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
          But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
               And grabbed at the Banker again.

          Without rest or pause - while those frumious jaws
               Went savagely snapping around-
          He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
               Till fainting he fell to the ground.

          The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
               Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
          And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
               And solemnly tolled on his bell.

          He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
               The least likeness to what he had been:
          While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white-
               A wonderful thing to be seen!

          To the horror of all who were present that day.
               He uprose in full evening dress,
          And with senseless grimaces endeavored to say
               What his tongue could no longer express.

          Down he sank in a chair - ran his hands through his hair -
               And chanted in mimsiest tones
          Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
               While he rattled a couple of bones.

          "Leave him here to his fate - it is getting so late!"
               The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
          "We have lost half the day.  Any further delay,
               And we sha'nt catch a Snark before night!"



Fit the Eighth      THE VANISHING

          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
               And the Beaver, excited at last,
          Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
               For the daylight was nearly past.

          "There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said,
               "He is shouting like mad, only hark!
          He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
               He has certainly found a Snark!"

          They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
               "He was always a desperate wag!"
          They beheld him - their Baker - their hero unnamed -
               On the top of a neighboring crag.

          Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
               In the next, that wild figure they saw
          (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
               While they waited and listened in awe.

          "It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
               And seemed almost too good to be true.
          Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
               Then the ominous words "It's a Boo-"

          Then, silence.  Some fancied they heard in the air
               A weary and wandering sigh
          Then sounded like "-jum!" but the others declare
               It was only a breeze that went by.

          They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
               Not a button, or feather, or mark,
          By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
               Where the Baker had met with the Snark.

          In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
               In the midst of his laughter and glee,
          He had softly and suddenly vanished away- -
               For the Snark *was* a Boojum, you see.



There was a cat who could live for a million years.
He died a million times, and lived a million times.
He was a great tiger-striped cat.
A million people adored the cat,
And a million people cried when that cat died.
The cat never cried, not even once.

Once, the cat was a king's cat.
The cat hated the king.
The king was great at war, and was always at war.
And, he put the cat in a magnificent cage,
And took him out to war.
One day, the cat was hit by a flying arrow, and died.
The king embraced the cat and wailed during the battle.
The king stopped the war and returned to his castle.
And, he buried the cat in the castle's garden.

Once, the cat was a sailor's cat.
The cat hated the seas.
The sailor took the cat to all the seas of the world,
And all the ports of the world.
One day, the cat fell off the boat.
The cat could not swim.
The sailor hurriedly scooped up the cat with his net,
But the cat was soaked and dead.
The sailor embraced the cat which was now like a wet rag,
And wailed in a loud voice.
And, he buried the cat under the tree
In a park in a far-away port.

Once, the cat was the cat of a magician in a circus.
The cat hated the circus.
The magician put the cat inside a box every day,
And cut him in half with a saw.
Then, he removed the cat, still in one piece,
Out of the box to receive his applause.
One day, the magician made a mistake,
And really cut the cat in half.
The magician wailed in a loud voice,
Holding the two parts of the cat in each hand.
Nobody applauded him.
The magician then buried the cat behind the circus tent.

Once, the cat was a burglar's cat.
The cat hated burglars.
The burglar walked quietly through the dark town with the cat,
Just like a cat.
The burglar robbed only houses with dogs.
While the dog was barking at the cat,
The burglar opened the safes.
One day, the cat was bitten to death by the dog.
The burglar embraced the cat with the diamonds he stole,
And walked through the night town wailing in a loud voice.
Then, he went home and buried the cat in a small yard.

Once, the cat was the cat of a lonely grandmother.
The cat hated grandmothers.
The grandmother looked outside every day from a small window,
Holding the cat in her arms.
The cat was asleep all day on top of the grandmother's lap.
Time passed, and the cat died of old age.
The frail grandmother embraced the frail dead cat,
And cried all day.
The grandmother buried the cat under a tree in the yard.

Once, the cat was a little girl's cat.
The cat hated children.
The girl piggy-backed the cat, and slept clutching the cat.
When she cried, she wiped her tears on the cat's back.
One day atop the girl's back,
The holster to keep the cat secure wound around his neck,
And the cat died.
Holding the cat with the dangly neck, the girl cried all day.
And, she buried the cat under a tree in the yard.

The cat had no fear of dying.

Once, the cat wasn't anyone's cat.
He was a stray cat.
The cat was able to be his own cat for the first time.
The cat loved himself.
Since he was a great tiger-striped cat,
He became a great stray cat.

All the female cats wanted to be the cat's wife.
There were cats that gave him huge fish.
Others gave him premium mice.
Some cats brought rare catnip as a gift.
Other cats licked his tiger fur for him.
The cat said to all of them—
"I've died a million times! This is so ridiculous now!"
The cat loved himself more than anyone else.

But there was just one beautiful white cat
That didn't even look at the cat.
The cat went over next to the white cat, and told her,
"I died a million times!"
The white cat just said, "Oh."
The cat became slightly upset, since he loved himself.
The next day, and the day after that,
The cat went over to the white cat and told her,
"You haven't even finished one life."
The white cat just said, "Oh."

One day, the cat did three somersaults in front of the white cat,
and said, "I once was a cat for a circus."
The white cat just said, "Oh."
The cat started to say, "I have had a million—"
Then asked the white cat, "Can I be at your side?"
The white cat said, "Yes."
The cat stayed by the white cat for a long time.

The white cat had many cute kittens.
The cat no longer dared to say "I have had a million—"
The cat loved the white cat and all the many kittens
Even more than himself.

As time passed, the kittens grew up and all went away.
The cat, satisfied, said, "They became great stray cats now."
The white cat said, "Yes," and softly purred her throat.
The white cat had become a grandmother cat.
The cat purred his throat even more softly.
The cat thought that he wanted to live forever with the white cat.

One day, the white cat quietly stopped moving next to the cat.
The cat cried for the first time in his life.
Night came, morning came,
Night came again, and morning came again.
The cat cried a million times.
Morning came, night came—
and one afternoon, the cat stopped crying.
The cat, next to the white cat, quietly stopped moving.

The cat never came back to life again.



This is your time to pay,
This is your judgement day,
We made a sacrifice,
And now we get to take your life.

We shoot without a gun,
We'll take on anyone,
It's really nothing new,
It's just a thing we like to do.

You better get ready to die,
You better get ready to kill,
You better get ready to run,
Cause here we come,
You better get ready to die!

Your life is over now,
Your life is running out,
When your time is at an end,
Then it's time to kill again,
We cut without a knife,
We live in black and white,
Your just a parasite,
Now close your eyes and say good-night.

You better get ready to die,
You better get ready to kill,
You better get ready to run,
Cause here we come,
You better get ready to die!
Get ready to die!
Get ready to die!



There's a place you're always welcome,
It's as nice as it can be,
Everyone can get in,
'cos it's absolutely free,
That's Death.
No need to take a breath,
Just lie around all day,
With not a single bill to pay,
That's Death,
No more sicknesses or flu,
If you've lived beyond your means,
You can die beyond them, too,
Well, the greatest and the finest,
Mmm, have already died,
Why not simply join them,
On the other side?
That's Death.
Say farewell to all your bills,
Rip up all your wills,
And pop your final pills,
That's Death.
It's a tete a tete with fate,
If you're not feeling great,
Then it's the best way to lose weight,
Nothing here to hurt you,
No one's here to nag,
Come die with me,
If your life's a drag.
That's Death.
Death Death,
The wealthy and well bred,
All of them are here,
And they're all completely dead,
So dead.
That's Death.
Death, Death,
No more headaches, no more pain,
Of the millions who've died,
No one came back to complain,
You can't take it with you,
You can't keep what you've got,
So why not just lie back,
And simply rot?
Death, Death,
Just simply rot,
Death, Death,
It's so cool, it's hot,
Death, Death,
And That's Death.



Shinigami-sama написал(а):

а у меня еще спрашивают, зачем я школу над ним построил. Так поет хорошо!

а позырил новые серии))) да поёт здорово! Мне тож под своим домиком надо поселить Кишина, пусть колыбельные на ночь поёт!



Dart написал(а):

а позырил новые серии))) да поёт здорово! Мне тож под своим домиком надо поселить Кишина, пусть колыбельные на ночь поёт!

а нервов хватит на такого певца? Сыну, вот, что-то не нравится.



всем ню



Нигеру Неко
*таинственный язык, видимо* Ню



ню нянягю каваии га?



О Великая Администрация,можно ли узнать ваш номер ICQ?Надо пару вопросов задать?



ня. кайваии нэ...

великая администрация вам стучит



а можно,когда меня примут,дать мне статус "~Неко-Сенсей~"?



Нигеру Неко
можно, конечно можно ^_____________^



Нья,огромное спасибо ~^



Тема есть,а флуда нет.Что за дела?



Всем доброго времени суток ^ ^ Будем развивать флуд...



Йо! Развивать флуд...фии...Флудить мы будем,товарисчи!



Нигеру Неко
Ну да, можно и так сказать х) Флудить, базарить и слушать замогильные песни Кишина Х)



Последнего лучше не надо,ога?



*встревоженно зыркает по сторонам* Т-с-с, если он тебя услышит - точно запоет х)



*спрятался под стул*
Мамочка мояяя


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