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nickalodieon:

Special moments with Ariel and Flounder! (Flickr: nickalodieon) 



waltwest-rp:

Do you feel your heart pounding? Can you taste the smoke in the air? Hear the crack of gunshots? Or are you too distracted by what you see—the smile on her lips, as sweet as the burn of whiskey and just as dangerous. Welcome back to Walt…leave your fairy tales in the dust. 
Walt, end of the stage coach line, a Disney/Historical RPG where old fairy tales meet the Old West in a town that’s little more than rocks, dirt, rattlers and folks with nowhere else to call home. Some came to get as far from the law as they could, some ran out of money on their way to California, and some folks are just plumb crazy enough to like it. It’s where you can’t trust the lawmen to be on your side or their own, where missionaries sing from street corners and saloon girls pour you a whiskey and charge you for two. Gold talks here, not that anyone’s got much of it. After all, it’s the late 1870’s in middle of nowhere Arizona, and if you’ve come to stay—and Lord help you if you have—sleep with one eye open, because you’re on the wild frontier now, and the only lullaby you’re gonna get’s the lonely howl of coyotes, the wheels of your wagon and whinny of your horse, and the only law folks’ll listen to is the one strapped in your holster.

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waltwest-rp:

Do you feel your heart pounding? Can you taste the smoke in the air? Hear the crack of gunshots? Or are you too distracted by what you see—the smile on her lips, as sweet as the burn of whiskey and just as dangerous. Welcome back to Walt…leave your fairy tales in the dust. 

Walt, end of the stage coach line, a Disney/Historical RPG where old fairy tales meet the Old West in a town that’s little more than rocks, dirt, rattlers and folks with nowhere else to call home. Some came to get as far from the law as they could, some ran out of money on their way to California, and some folks are just plumb crazy enough to like it. It’s where you can’t trust the lawmen to be on your side or their own, where missionaries sing from street corners and saloon girls pour you a whiskey and charge you for two. Gold talks here, not that anyone’s got much of it. After all, it’s the late 1870’s in middle of nowhere Arizona, and if you’ve come to stay—and Lord help you if you have—sleep with one eye open, because you’re on the wild frontier now, and the only lullaby you’re gonna get’s the lonely howl of coyotes, the wheels of your wagon and whinny of your horse, and the only law folks’ll listen to is the one strapped in your holster.

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Alright so here’s the plan; I have five months to loose enough weight and rekindle my dance classes before I audition for Disney. As soon as I turn 18 I’m auditioning for land. Here’s to hoping.