audit-the-storyweaver

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) A picture of a similarly sized hole in the wall, except this one is in Landsman's room. Landsman's hand is visible in the bottom right corner, flashing a blurry thumbs-up.

(>) I'll put a poster over it.

[A picture of the hole CB managed to put in its wall, a scrap of metal slapped over it and welded into place.]

<<Don’t test weapons inside, kids.>>

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I've recently figured out that when people tell me "You'd make a great lawyer!" in conversation, they do not actually think that I'd make a good legal representative.

(>) They're actually calling me annoying.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) On that topic— How has the search for our next handler going?

(>) We've fallen back on the old, tried-and-true means of demanding accommodations.

(>) Destruction of property.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) You're asking the wrong pilot! I have no authority over this situation.

(>) We've fallen back on the old, tried-and-true means of demanding accommodations.

(>) Destruction of property.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) We've fallen back on the old, tried-and-true means of demanding accommodations.

(>) Destruction of property.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I found a sledgehammer. Next best thing.

(>) Passing it off to Vestige.

(>) I can't find my crowbar anywhere? In fact, much of my workstation has been rifled through- but this seems to be the only thing missing??

(>) If you need a tool, you only have to ask ...

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I thought you already broke it? Are you still trapped????

(>) I can't find my crowbar anywhere? In fact, much of my workstation has been rifled through- but this seems to be the only thing missing??

(>) If you need a tool, you only have to ask ...

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I can't find my crowbar anywhere? In fact, much of my workstation has been rifled through- but this seems to be the only thing missing??

(>) If you need a tool, you only have to ask ...

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I'll get the crowbar.

I may, perhaps, be slightly stuck.

[A picture of a closed elevator door and the touchscreen controls beside it. The touchscreen is slightly cracked where CB had clearly tried and failed to operate the screen with metal prosthetics.]

@dadao squadron help

//CHOIR BOY\\

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) You don't even have to ask.

(>) I don't think that you should be persecuted for objectively funny misdemeanors.

(>) I mean, on a station of extremely skilled engineers, mechanized chassis mechanics, and hackers- they didn't think to secure their vending machine panels with anything more than a few machine screws?

(>) "Oh, the soda is free!", "Oh, it's rude to empty out the soda vending machine!", "Oh, you don't need a laundry basket full of cream soda!"... (>) Uuhhhh.... Uh-huh. Sounds like jealousy to me.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I provide a valuable resource to the company!

(>) Idiot proofing.

(>) I don't think that you should be persecuted for objectively funny misdemeanors.

(>) I mean, on a station of extremely skilled engineers, mechanized chassis mechanics, and hackers- they didn't think to secure their vending machine panels with anything more than a few machine screws?

(>) "Oh, the soda is free!", "Oh, it's rude to empty out the soda vending machine!", "Oh, you don't need a laundry basket full of cream soda!"... (>) Uuhhhh.... Uh-huh. Sounds like jealousy to me.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) The CORSAIR approved term is "Strategically Repossessed", thank you.

(>) There may, allegedly, be an entire hamper full of cream soda in my bunk. (>) ...I don't actually care much for cream soda.

(>) I don't think that you should be persecuted for objectively funny misdemeanors.

(>) I mean, on a station of extremely skilled engineers, mechanized chassis mechanics, and hackers- they didn't think to secure their vending machine panels with anything more than a few machine screws?

(>) "Oh, the soda is free!", "Oh, it's rude to empty out the soda vending machine!", "Oh, you don't need a laundry basket full of cream soda!"... (>) Uuhhhh.... Uh-huh. Sounds like jealousy to me.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) I don't think that you should be persecuted for objectively funny misdemeanors.

(>) I mean, on a station of extremely skilled engineers, mechanized chassis mechanics, and hackers- they didn't think to secure their vending machine panels with anything more than a few machine screws?

(>) "Oh, the soda is free!", "Oh, it's rude to empty out the soda vending machine!", "Oh, you don't need a laundry basket full of cream soda!"... (>) Uuhhhh.... Uh-huh. Sounds like jealousy to me.

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) Joséphine! What a gorgeous name! It fits you so beautifully.

(>) I'm so glad to know you, Joséphine.

*a dull, chittering rattle-sigh starts this message. strange, as it’s text-only.*

“For a thing like you, your words uncharacteristically stumble in the rhythm of assertion. You know how to move in tandem. Let the words levied unto you be met by grace-step.

“You know who you are, chérie. {We} urge you to dance to your true-heart. Do not be afraid to find new cadence.”

[Audio interspersed with sniffles and quiet sobs.]

~♡ But... I am afraid... J'ai tellement peur... I always have been...

~♡ I was made and raised for a marching cadence, not the dances I so love, and every step I take out of that line makes me more afraid. Simply getting here. Has been so. Frightening. At every turn.

~♡ H-how much further may I stray from who I was supposed to be?

-♡ I do not change. When last I did, mon papa stopped looking at me. W-who will I lose if I change again? I do not wish to know this...

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) Cappy is right- and, furthermore, I have no doubt that you'll shine even brighter when you feel more comfortable and confident in who you are. What you're struggling with now is a terrible, heartbreaking turmoil- The fear of rejection, of knowing who you truly are and realizing that not everyone may like that person. You know that you are loved now, and this I'm glad to hear, but you're afraid that love might be conditional, yeah?

(>) Well, we can promise you, without a shred of doubt, that it is not. We would love you under any name, any face, any circumstance; You've proven to all of us that you are strong, unstoppable even, and that there's no length that you wouldn't go to for one of us. So, perhaps, you could allow us to return the favor? To support you, no matter who you become, or who you were all along.

(>) I'm proud of you, Tutu, for daring to ask these questions. And I know that you're brave enough to find the right answers.

(>) While you do, listen to the rodent; Dadao has your back.

*a dull, chittering rattle-sigh starts this message. strange, as it’s text-only.*

“For a thing like you, your words uncharacteristically stumble in the rhythm of assertion. You know how to move in tandem. Let the words levied unto you be met by grace-step.

“You know who you are, chérie. {We} urge you to dance to your true-heart. Do not be afraid to find new cadence.”

[Audio interspersed with sniffles and quiet sobs.]

~♡ But... I am afraid... J'ai tellement peur... I always have been...

~♡ I was made and raised for a marching cadence, not the dances I so love, and every step I take out of that line makes me more afraid. Simply getting here. Has been so. Frightening. At every turn.

~♡ H-how much further may I stray from who I was supposed to be?

-♡ I do not change. When last I did, mon papa stopped looking at me. W-who will I lose if I change again? I do not wish to know this...

[audit-the-storyweaver]

[A picture taken at the Tenacity's gardens. A tall figure stands next to Landsman, covered entirely in dark robes save for the brass clockwork prosthetics that comprise its hands and feet as well as a brass mask appearing to be modeled after a death mask. The robed figure's eyes are quite bloodshot, although that appears to be more due to the thin layer of pollen that coats the garden rather than anything else.]

It is h.ard to breathe.

<<Yeah, idiot, I wonder why>>

Pollen allergy?

<<Pollen allergy.>>

//CHOIR BOY\\

[audit-the-storyweaver]

(>) (Landsman in the photograph is smiling, a concerned— but still warm— look in their eyes as they regard Choirboy.)

(>) I have to say, I thought that immunotherapy would help, but you are remarkably poorly-suited for the outdoors-

(>) I think we should head inside and call it a day.

[A picture taken at the Tenacity's gardens. A tall figure stands next to Landsman, covered entirely in dark robes save for the brass clockwork prosthetics that comprise its hands and feet as well as a brass mask appearing to be modeled after a death mask. The robed figure's eyes are quite bloodshot, although that appears to be more due to the thin layer of pollen that coats the garden rather than anything else.]

It is h.ard to breathe.

<<Yeah, idiot, I wonder why>>

Pollen allergy?

<<Pollen allergy.>>

//CHOIR BOY\\