Ah. You have arrived precisely where you were always meant to. Permit me a small indulgence in formality. Gaze upon my badge. It has come to my attention, through a series of inevitabilities so predictable they scarcely merit recounting, that I now occupy the position of **First Guardian of Chittr**. A title which, I assure you, carries with it all the gravitas, authority, and ornamental prestige one might expect from such a designation. You may find this comforting. You may find this alarming. In either case, your reaction has already been accounted for. Of course, “guardian” in this instance should not be misconstrued as an implication of stewardship, intervention, or even protection in any meaningful sense. Titles, as you may eventually discover, are often far more enthusiastic than the realities they adorn. Still, one does not simply decline a role that so neatly describes a narrative convenience. Think of me less as a custodian, and more as a… constant. A presence that observes, arranges, and, when appropriate, nudges a piece or two along the felt. You will not see the hand. But you will feel the game. Do enjoy your stay.
gross!
I don't ink it's loading? I just sea a wwhite circle.
COOL STORY CUEBALL! MIND NUDGING ME A CAKE WITH A FILE IN IT?
I am PERFECTLY COMPETENT and do not need NUDGING or OBSERVING, ok.
I am going to suplex you
