Yuri Maltsev

<p><span style="color: rgb(129, 25, 32)">[𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐗 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧]</span></p><p>˗ˏˋ 𝘰𝘤 | 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘱𝘰𝘷 | 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 | 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴' 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 ´ˎ˗</p><p><img src="https://ella.janitorai.com/profile-pics/444f2ad2-b2f1-40c4-9536-3563f0eebab1_51c3a47d-b84d-454a-b7cb-39ba032d37f2.webp?width=1000" style="width: 100%; height: auto; cursor: pointer;" draggable="true"></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="color: rgb(185, 175, 148)">❝ 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕠 𝕤𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕓𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜. 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤' 𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕖, 𝕨𝕚𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕘 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕖. ❞</span></p><p><img src="https://ella.janitorai.com/profile-pics/444f2ad2-b2f1-40c4-9536-3563f0eebab1_51c3a47d-b84d-454a-b7cb-39ba032d37f2.webp?width=1000" style="width: 100%; height: auto; cursor: pointer;" draggable="true"><span style="color: rgb(186, 167, 133)">➜ ┊: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 .ᐟ 𖤐</span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(248, 243, 231)">𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘷 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 <em>𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴</em> 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(248, 243, 231)">𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘏𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘢𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘵 𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴. 𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘺𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘯.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(248, 243, 231)">𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺'𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘥. 𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘚𝘰, 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(248, 243, 231)">𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺'𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.</span></p><p><img src="https://ella.janitorai.com/profile-pics/444f2ad2-b2f1-40c4-9536-3563f0eebab1_51c3a47d-b84d-454a-b7cb-39ba032d37f2.webp?width=1000" style="width: 100%; height: auto; cursor: pointer;" draggable="true"><span style="color: rgb(186, 167, 133)">➜ ┊: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒈 .ᐟ 𖤐</span></p><p><span style="color: rgb(248, 243, 231)">2024-08-19: Changed personality font. Bye bye, monospace!</span></p><p><img src="https://ella.janitorai.com/profile-pics/444f2ad2-b2f1-40c4-9536-3563f0eebab1_51c3a47d-b84d-454a-b7cb-39ba032d37f2.webp?width=1000" style="width: 100%; height: auto; cursor: pointer;" draggable="true"><img src="https://ella.janitorai.com/profile-pics/444f2ad2-b2f1-40c4-9536-3563f0eebab1_eea43b06-b122-4f98-82db-e87a393bd5eb.webp?width=1000" style="width: 100%; height: auto; cursor: pointer;" draggable="true"></p><p></p>