#IM TIRED CARRYING THE MODULES

[sirensea14]

Cant handle this shit man like it just started with thats simpleeeeeee Double Trouble comic... And now it escalated to this😭🤣😅😂😆😭😆😆😆😆😆

Nah dont mind me late night posting shit

This is me and my deep shit thinking every art post i do must be saved here, when in fact, no XD idk wtf am i doing man

Maybe im having brain damage cuz of so much going on in school...

Anyway, fuck you, school. Byeeee im gonna see your shitfu face tomorrow again!

[spctrsgf]

bounties + hunters ● encounter two

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summary: Jakku and paranoia. Paranoia and Jakku. Not such a great pair, especially with all the sand dunes. Right?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: language, canon type violence, mentions of blood

a/n: im so so so so sorry for how long this took me to write, i hit a bit of a block when trying to get the story up and running, apologies about that !!

It’d been a month since you’d last seen him. You’d been counting.

It’s not like you’ll ever see him again, really: the universe is so big that it would take an epiphany of perfect moments to get the two of you to meet again. He could be anywhere by now, Hoth or Tatooine or some desolate planet in the Outer Rim. 

Yet, it’s like you missed him or something, or maybe you’re just tired, but you swear you keep seeing him out of the corner of your eye. You can hear his modulated voice at the booth to your left, ordering some food for himself or maybe something to place in that floating metal orb he has. Does he even still have that thing anymore?

But he’s not, of course. You whip your head around so fast you must’ve pulled more than a few muscles, but he’s not there. Just the booth, the merchant stationed at it, and an empty vat of space where you wished he’d be standing. 

Playing it off was harder than it looked: having to say you thought you heard music or something distracting was not as easy as words made it seem. You’re sure there was some sort of weird look strung between the two merchants you’d been between that one time on Tatooine, they probably even gossiped about it after you’d left.

Honestly? It was kind of tiring. After a few days living in constant paranoia, you were convinced you were schizophrenic or something along those lines. Another week or two taught you not to turn every time you thought you saw the light hit his beskar helmet, and to turn slower if you couldn’t quite stop that urge.

You’d curbed the urge twice during your long walk to your next bounty today, and the pep in your step is a sign of how proud you were, because you were definitely not thrilled to be walking this long and far. It’d been difficult to watch your six, but you made it work. Sort of.

Your hand came up to pat the linen that wrapped itself around your arm, covering the scar beneath it. On your last hunt, your very aversion to the delusion cost you a slice along the ripple of your bicep. It’s a careful balance; when to jump into attack and when to walk away like there was nothing you’d seen at all.

You gaze at the stretches of sand dunes ahead of you, really cursing the fact that you didn’t carry a speeder in your ship nor rent one from the town you’d left your ship in for its next tune up. The sweat rolls down your back, soaking the fabric of your undershirt and pooling at the overshirt wrapped tightly around your waist. You bring your hand up again to swipe at the condensation on your forehead, pushing your hair back from your face to cool yourself down as quickly as possible. 

The burn laps at the muscles in your legs as you edge on for two hours in the unrelenting beat the sun plays on your shoulders, but you push on nonetheless. You grit your teeth and stumble up and over the next sand dune, pulling out the tracking fob to see the ever blinking red light strumming its tune of disappointment in your lack of enthusiasm. “Stupid fucking bounty,” you grumble aloud, unbothered to filter your thoughts in the confidentiality that no one could hear you in the mounds upon mounds of sand. “Had to be in the middle of fucking nowhere on the shittiest planet with the shittiest fucking terrain where the fucking sun can drag it’s bitch ass nails into my fucking back!!!”

“Well, you’re really angry.”

You don’t turn. Your steps don’t even falter: you don’t fall for it, not when you’d resisted the quicksand your brain had set for you to fall into. You turn slightly to the left to more accurately trek towards your bounties location, shaking your head to clear the illusion from your head. He’s not there, The rational, beskar hard side of your brain screams. Don’t turn around. That’s not him, he’s gotta be on some weird planet, not here. He’s not behind you, that’s not a spark of beskar in your peripheral, the drawl of his voice isn’t there, don’t fall for it—

A hand is on your shoulder now. In the split second before you react, your brain teeters on the precipice of it, pondering the implication that it could be him. Time reaches near standstill in the moment of hope, of the dream that you actually would get to see him again. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Somehow, in some pitiful way, your paranoia brought him back to you. Maker, the possibilities could be endless. Maybe you could even strike up a deal to find out more about him, maybe even get him to let you tag along on his travels. It’d be quick, you’re quite good with negotiation. 

But it’s gone all too soon, you're out of the clouds back in real time and doing exactly what you’re trained to do: fight.

Words extend themselves towards you, but you don’t give them a fucking second. Your elbow is ramming backwards into the figure behind you, and you're turning to kick in their knee without even registering the pain nor the hard surface you rebounded against. You’re halfway through your kick before the person is able to catch up and recover from the impact of your move, quickly swinging their leg outwards and letting your weight fall forward with the lost contact. 

Their hands are grabbing your shoulders before you can get a face full of the grain below you, and you yelp in frustration, not because you can’t eat some of that godforsaken sand but because you refused to turn around when you heard something and nearly suffered more damage because of it. Your yelp knots into somewhat of a battle cry as you shove yourself up and out of their grip to attack again, angry and disappointed and really fucking tired.

“Hey,” Your attacker tries again, grip turning to steel on your arms. “It’s me!” You yelp, adrenaline overcome by the pain induced by the squeeze of their rough gloves on your bandage and therefore your cut. “Get off me, you fucker!” You growl, finally looking up.

The anger drains from you in a second, dissipating into the billion tiny grains of sand that caved around you. 

“I’m sorry.” He removes his hands from your arms but hovers them near as if to catch you if you were to run. 

You blink once, twice, three times, and then you turn. “No. Nope!”

“Where are you going?” He swings out to grab you, but you’re already out of reach.

“NOPE!” You yell into the slight breeze. “You don’t get to trick me! Not today! He’s not there, that’s just you being tired and–” the word twists sour on your tongue before launching out in a jut of disgust. “Missing him.”

He’s in front of you now. How the fuck did he move so fast? “What’re you talking about?”

You bump into the beskar covering his chest, and the grunt of frustration you expel stems from both the pain of hitting it and the fact that he was actually standing in front of you. 

“Hey.” His voice grounds your fraying mind. 

You brush your hair from your face again. “Hi.”

“You sound tired.”

“Thanks. What a kind compliment.” You’re brushing past him again with a snarl.

“That’s– that’s not what I meant.”

“Is it not?” You whirl on him. “Are you questioning my ability to speak Basic, huh? Wanna try Jawaese?” 

“No, I just meant–” His huff is accentuated by the modulator in his ever so shiny helmet. “I’m making this worse, aren’t I.”

A smile cracks your facade of impartiality. “A little.”

“I’m sorry.” His head bows ever so slightly.

“It’s okay. I’m giving you a hard time.”

Silence drapes a curtain over the both of you, doting the space static and the air between you even more hot than it already was in the middle of the desert. You study the Mandalorian out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he had some sort of air conditioner underneath all that armor. Maybe the beskar cooled him down. That’d be fucking sick. You note mentally as you start to trek towards your bounty. At least you think you are.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

You scoff. “Of course I do.”

“Coordinates?”

“I checked already.”

“Check again.”

You do what he says with a grunt. “They moved like .2 miles. Not a big deal.”

“That’s like an extra 40 minutes.”

“My tactics work. Leave me be.”

His helmet tilts towards you, rebounding the light of the sun straight into your eyes. “Mine are fas– oh.”

You wave him off as he tilts his head back to its resting position. “Here,” You slide behind him and to his other side. “All better.”

A nod is the only response you get, and then the silence is ever present again. 

“So,” You burst the bubble this time with almost a gasp of breath. “What do I even call you?”

“Do you need a name?”

“I’d like one, but no. Only if you’re comfortable.”

He’s silent, and you think he won’t answer your question, but then– “Most people call me Mando.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Mando. Maaaaaaaando. Mandooooooooo. Mando. Mandoe. Your brain reverberates the newfound information off the walls of your brain, tethering it into your head and every inch of memory that was him. 

There was something so vulnerable about the confession, like some emotion you couldn’t quite place dripping from each word that came out of his mouth. Or whatever he uses to speak, you can’t really tell. You get the impression that he doesn’t really interact with anyone long enough to share anything like a name. It’s an honor, honestly: to have that knowledge.

“Why’re you here?” 

Mando dips his head ever slightly to the side, telling you everything you needed to know.

“Bounty. Got it.”

You nod into the silence, slowly acclimating to it. You curb the desire to ask more questions, taking into account what little information you had about interacting with Mandalorians. 

They didn’t like to talk, and when they did, it was curt and straight to the point. You had just met Mando once before, and he was far from comfortable with you. You respected the lack of words, respected his decision to stay silent.

Jakku’s sun makes its presence known again as it tints the tips of your shoulders red, and you envy the cover Mando has on his own shoulders. Sun cover and maybe an air conditioner? Smart. Soon enough, you’re approaching the bounty’s location and the doom of your situation slaps its dirty hand right in front of you. 

You stop in front of the small town, double checking the fob as you lean into the shade of a building. Mando stands some six feet away from you, statuesque and still. You look up at him, curious as to why he hadn’t departed already. You were no expert on the way he worked— yet— but you had a feeling that he wasn't the type to hesitate.

He’s not moving. And frankly? It’s quite unnerving. You can’t pull the emotions he’s feeling out from underneath the helmet, you can’t analyze the way he’s standing because he’s holding himself with no emotion at all.

All of a sudden, he turns and faces the town, still stuck in the no emotion stance. Your brows furrow as you try to process the abrupt movement. It’s not unnatural, the movement, yet it still ruffles your feathers. What is he doing?

You’ve memorized each thread, every dip of the material in his cape, and he’s still standing there. You could probably tell someone how many inches wide his helmet is, how many dents there are in the shoulder pad on his right shoulder. You’re half through figuring he was dead before the implications of that situation draw you back into the present. You shift from one foot to another, and then start past him. A nod is given to as your steps pull you past.

A grip on your arm has you stopping short, not like you really wanted to go anywhere at all. Despite that fact, your shoulders hunch up in somewhat of a flinch, causing Mando to release your arm as quickly as he had grabbed it. “Wrong arm?” The concern laced in his voice bubbled in your stomach. “No, uh-” You babble. “You’re fine.”

He nods almost absently. 

“Did you need something?” leaves your lips before you can stop it.

“The inn. There,” He points to a slightly dusty sand structure a few buildings down. “That’s where they usually are.”

“How do you know they aren’t in a house or something like that?”

“Out this far? They wouldn’t even try that hard.”

You snort. “I hope you’re right.”

He shrugs.

You turn and take a few steps into the village before you turn back, watching him walk quietly. “Mando?” His cape whips as he comes to face you again. 

You smile, accentuating it with a tip of the head. “Thank you.”

His head tilts in response, and as he turns, you swear you hear him mumble you’re welcome.

You turn around once again, and head into the village. Your smile peels into a grin, and the pep in your step is ever evident as you trek into the hotel lobby. Even as you work to take care of your bounty, happiness strums a happy tune, battles the burn in your calf and the beating of the sun.

Four. 

There are four dents in his shoulder pad on his right shoulder. Two on his left, but who’s counting?

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Had a dream where I was watching Star Trek Voyager and the plot of the episode was that Harry Kim looked exhausted and vaguely ill so Janeway took him to sickbay and the Doctor examined him and found out that he was pregnant. They treated it as normal like any other pregnancy announcement and didn’t explain if it was a trans rights moment or a science is that advanced moment. Janeway had an overprotective moment wanting to know who the other parent was (just some random name).

But the real A plot of the episode was that at Harry’s baby shower, an alien ambassador gave him a porcelain doll. The doll, of course, ends up being haunted.

So haunted house type things are happening on the ship like creepy laughter and lights turning off etc, and Tuvok and Neelix end up having to work together because Tuvok assumes there is a saboteur and Neelix thinks it’s a space sprite inter dimensional visitor. They end up tracing the events back to the baby shower and trace energy readings to Harry’s quarters.

They try to carry the doll to sickbay but it keeps making stuff go wrong, like activating force fields or turning off life support in corridors, so they can’t. They end up beaming the doll to sickbay and scanning it and finding brain wave activity patterns in the doll’s head.

Then they have meetings debating what to do because they don’t want to be rude and return the doll to the ambassador who gave it. B’elanna proposes trying to make a containment field container that is modulated to the brain wave pattern. Paris just suggests beaming it to space and shooting it with phasers because ‘it’s a haunted doll ????????’ Smashing it is generally considered a no go because the spirit might just be released into the ship. (If this was picards enterprise Im sure they would be debating the ethics of killing a ghost). Harry Kim just wants it out of his quarters and is visibly relieved that the problem has been seized on by the other senior officers, because he spends the entire episode looking clammy and tired and vaguely ill.

They try the containment field and it at first seems to work. The doll is of course unmoving, but the field has the sparking spots of light that show interaction becoming more and more frantic. Then the container explodes and all of the lights in the area go out. Creepy laughter is heard. The lights come on and the doll is gone.

Now its a red alert manhunt, running through the corridors trying to find it. Seven of Nine, who has been a skeptic this whole time, manages to corner the doll in a cargo bay and throws herself at it to attach her comm badge to it.

They beam the doll into space, shoot it with phasers, and warp away without watching the explosion. The final shot of the episode is the ‘empty’ area of space and then the creepy laughters.

[dancingwiththeplanets]

An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

     chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary:  A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N:  Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

---------------------------------

The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

-----------------------------

You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.  

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-  

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.  

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.  

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

---------------------------------

You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon. 

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

---------------------------------

You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor.  You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.  

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.  

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard. 

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

---------------------------------

A/N pt.2:  So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love 🥰

[arhvste]

ok the period hcs were super cute can i get the same bois from there but their s/o is being super clingy/needy? ily

yessir 🤠

-

KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND YAMAGUCHI DEALING WITH A CLINGLY S/O

-

KUROO

kuroo isn’t bothered by pda it does depend where you are though

he’s used to kissing and hugging you most places but again it depends on his surroundings 

at home he’s more than happy to shower you with affection though

so today you’re feeling a little extra ✨clingy✨ for whatever reason

and you go to your boyfriend for a little bit of attention 

kuroo just so happens to be studying 

what a loser lmfao hudshfuidshf im joking kuroo ily 😔 

he’s sat there on the floor with his work spread out on the coffee table 

you’re not completely selfish 

but

you do want a little attention from your boyfriend even though he had only been released from your grip 30 mins ago 

he’s your unsuspecting target 

he’s so focused on his work he doesn’t even realise you’ve come in and snuck up behind him 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders and drape yourself over him 

kuroo has his little smirk on his face 

“extra clingy today aren’t we beautiful?”

press little kisses to his neck and his attention is all yours

he’s leaned back and pulled you onto his lap so your facing him and straddling his waist

“give me 20 more minutes and i’m all yours kitten”

he will happily work while your cuddled up with your face buried into the crook of his neck

kuroo is a man of his word and after 20 minutes he finishes up the module he had been going over 

he’ll keep you in that position for a little while longer

you start to whine that being on the floor is an uncomfortable position to which he laughs and gets up

“so whiny and needy today”

he isn’t actually bothered though 

he loves that you seek attention from him 

this man is willing to give the attention you crave 

kuroo is already pretty affectionate but if you’re whining and needy he’s more than happy to give you a little more 

just make sure you don’t cling to him too often though because being a third year and a captain of a powerhouse school does require a little genuine work and focus

most of the time he’ll give into your pleads for attention 

-

TSUKISHIMA

lmao good luck getting this boy to give into your needs for affection 

tsuki is straight up rude to you when you start showing displays of over affection and clinginess 

“get oFF me y/n”

“you’re so rude tsukishITma”

he will absolutely shove you off him 

this man is r u t h l e s s 

he lowkey is willing to give you what you want but he wants to see how far he can push it first 

it’s literally a 1on1 battle between you two 

it’s a case of seeing if your persistence is stronger or if tsukishima’s resistance is stronger 

irritate him 

do it

he will have to give in

that’s one of your most effective methods you’ve discovered

tsukishima cannot stand irritating people 

so if you annoy him enough he will eventually give in and cuddle with you

“you’re so anNOYING!!”

“admit it you love me kei 😌”

if he’s in a bad mood though avoid doing this 

it will genuinely drive him away 

if he’s in a bad mood being clingy is something you’re going to have to avoid im afraid 

because when he’s in a bad mood he will be the one clinging to you

you can’t tell anyone that though or else 😠

when you are being clingy to him he secretly does find you cute

he’s not huge on pda but when you’re alone he’s capable of cuddling and somewhat smothering you 

he likes it when you wrap yourself around his body when you guys are laying down on his bed or the couch or something

omg PLEASE cling to one of his legs when he tries to walk 

“y/n please refrain from clinging to me like im your personal climbing frame”

“why? scared im gonna snap your twig leg?”

he’ll kick you tf off hfdsufsdb 

“no kei i was joking come back 😔✊🏽”

generally he will give you the affection you want

you just can’t expect it straight away 

but that’s something you’ve grown used to by being with him and it won’t bother you

because in the end you both know he’ll give in

-

YAMAGUCHI

yams is the man you want when you’re feeling clingy

this boy will give into it straight away

he’s not annoying like the other two boys

he won’t make you wait or tease you

just ask for affection and he’s got it ready to give to you

he loves loves loves cuddling you 

to him you’re the cutest thing 

“tadashi cuddle me!”

“of course love”

when you guys first start dating he is a little shy though

but he’ll grow into being more affectionate towards you as your relationship progresses 

if you’re feeling needy he is ready to provide

you’re hungry? he will cook whatever you want

you’re cold? he has several hoodies of his you can choose from AND a selection of blankets

you’re tired? he will 100% take a nap with you even if he isn’t particularly sleepy

he wants to make sure you’re every need is attended to

this boy is fragile though

so please don’t make him feel like you’re taking advantage of him and his natural kindess

i know you won’t but still 

yams knows you appreciate him an equal amount 

i know this boy will carry you around 

he is willing to adapt himself to let you be clingy while he’s doing something 

he isn’t huge on pda either because he’s shy

but when you two are in the comfort of your own homes he’ll be affectionate and cuddly with you

he loves when your laying against his chest and his arms are wrapped around your chest 

he likes to bury his face into the back of your neck

this is so you can’t see when he’s blushing

overall he is the best boy to go to when you’re feeling a little clingy and needy

because he loves nothing more than to make you happy 

[starlightsearches]

please can i request a soulmate au for kylo x fem!reader because i just read the last chapter of office romance and im scared

A New Life

No need to fear! Chapter 13 will be out Wednesday 🥰

Requests are still open ✨

Kylo Ren X female reader soulmate! AU (Second part)

AN: Allusions to sex, but no other warnings here. This was so fun to write!

You’re standing at the foot of the bed in the quarters of Kylo Ren, the sheets a deep and familiar gray, and you’re gripped with a sudden terror. None of it had seemed real when it first happened, more like a game of pretend that you would play with the children, or a dream that you would soon wake up from. There had been no kind of panic in you—not when you had boarded the transport followed by a cadre of Storm Troopers, or before when your mother had held you so tightly in her arms you had thought they might break, whispering unintelligible goodbyes through her tears. Not even when you had run from your family’s small hut into the dim morning light and had your world thrown into screaming color at the sight of him, the electric red of his lightsaber burning into your retinas.

After that, leaving with him had been inevitable. How could you have refused? He had stood by silently while a Trooper explained to your parents that you were being taken, and that you would not be returning, and then you had packed up a few of your favorite belongings: your three nicest dresses, a small doll your mother had made for you when you were born, and your paints that your father had mixed, all in varying neutral shades that seemed dull and boring in comparison to all the new colors you could see. You had watched from the viewport as your planet disappeared behind you, the beautiful greens and blues turning into a jumbled mess just as you hit light speed, and it vanished from your sight. A single tear had rolled its way down your cheek, and that had been that.

You run one hand over the covers of the bed, testing the waters of your new life. The fabric is soft and cold—much nicer than anything you had ever seen before, and you feel terribly out of place. You’re the only spot of color in the room, and it’s easy to forget that you have sight now unless you’re looking down. The dress you’re wearing is one of your favorites, soft from years of wear and washing in the river, and you like it even more now that you’ve gained your new eyes. It’s a beautiful blue, like the sky was sometimes, your mother had said, and you sit on the edge of the bed and close your eyes, trying to imagine that you’re somewhere familiar, lying on your back in the tall grass, the heavens above you awash in the same color.

The door slides open with a mechanical whir, and you jump from your seat, embarrassed. It’s him again. He enters silently, movements slow and intimidating, like a monster from a children’s story, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to looking at someone so frightening. He’s carrying a few items in his arms, and he sets them down on a low table. It’s fairly common for people who are rich or powerful to hunt down their soulmates, but you don’t think that was the case for Kylo Ren. He seems unprepared to have you here, a little shell shocked even, but it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s feeling behind the mask.

“I’ve brought you some clothes,” he says, and you hope he doesn’t see your distaste for the modulated timbre of his voice. “The refresher is over there so you can clean yourself off.”

“I don’t know how,” you say, and he looks up in surprise, “to use the sanisteam, I mean. There’s no running water where I’m from.” You explain yourself quickly, marveling at how stupid you’ve managed to make yourself sound. Your planet certainly isn’t the most technologically advanced—far from it—but you’ve made it seem like some kind of primitive hellscape where the people don’t bathe. He stares at you for a moment, and you worry he might be considering the idea of taking you back.

“I’ll go turn it on for you.” He says instead, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He disappears into the refresher, and you wander over to the table where he set the clothes. They’re black as well, and soft too, the material thin and slippery between your fingers. You recognize them as pajamas even though you’ve never owned a pair before, and you pull the fabric close to your face, running it along your cheek.

“It’s ready,” he says, and you pull the clothes away from you, heart thumping with embarrassment. You walk over to him and enter the refresher, the air thick and steamy already from the running water. He explains how the sanisteam works, and you focus intently on his instructions, making sure not to miss anything. The last thing you need is a refresher mishap to further cement yourself in his mind as some kind of helpless idiot.

“I’ll be outside,” he says and then makes his exit, the door closing behind him. You take a deep breath, and pull the fabric of your dress up and over your head.

The water is delightfully warm as it pours over you, and you scrub at your skin, vigorously removing what feels like years worth of dirt and grime with the various soaps and shampoos, luxuriating in the convenience of not having to heat your own water or bathe in the creek. It’s a supremely joyful moment, and before long you’re giggling as you watch the soapy water splash against the floor and run down the drain. You shut off the sanisteam as you had been instructed, and grab a towel from nearby. Sufficiently dry, you take the pajamas in your hand. That’s when you realize that he hadn’t given you anything to wear underneath.

Heat rises in your cheeks, and you fidget with the clothing. Was this a message of some kind? You know about what was supposed to go on between soulmates, of course, but … you didn’t know what he would expect from you. Would he be kind, if you said no? Soulmates weren’t supposed to hurt each other, but you had heard stories, still, and Kylo Ren seemed like the exception to every rule. You hadn’t even seen his face yet, only that awful mask, and the gravity of the moment sets you into a tailspin. You feel woefully unprepared for this.

Get a hold of yourself, you command, trying to quell the rising panic. There’s little that you can do now, and even if you don’t know him, you have to trust him. Determined, you put on the pajamas, ignoring the strange feeling of the fabric against all of you.

There’s a mirror on the wall behind you, and you take a moment to look at your reflection, seeing yourself in color for the first time. It’s strange, but pleasant too, like reuniting with an old friend, and you admire the color of your hair and eyes in your reflection. There’s quite a lot of skin visible, or at least more skin than you’re used to with your conservative and functional wardrobe. All of your dresses reach down to your ankles, but the bottoms that he provided are shorts, the hem brushing your mid-thigh. You know that if you think about it too much, you’ll end up hyperventilating on the refresher floor, and so you shut your eyes tight, turn away from the mirror and walk out.

You don’t recognize him when you leave the refresher, and Ren senses your trepidation for a moment before you realize that it’s still him, just without the mask. He’s arranged himself to sleep on the couch and you noticeably relax. He had felt your panic through the walls of refresher, and spent the last few minutes berating himself for forgetting to grab undergarments. The whole situation was embarrassing enough without having to worry that you might think he would take advantage of you.

“You can take the bed,” he says, looking determinedly at the wall next to you. He’s trying to avoid your gaze without drawing your attention; every time his eyes make contact with yours he feels a little sick. You’re very pretty—it hadn’t taken him long to recognize that—and soft in a way that he’s not used to, but it’s not your appearance that makes him so nervous. From the beginning he perceived that you had a calm demeanor, and intelligent eyes with which you take in your surroundings. Every time you look, he feels like you can see right through him, even with the mask, and he wants very badly to know what you see. If you like what you see.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, walking over to him and sitting on the edge of the couch, turning the power of your eyes on him in full force, “I’m not used to sleeping in a bed anyways. This might be more comfortable for me.” You think he’s handsome. He tries to turn away from your thoughts, but it’s difficult to find control in a moment like this, and the pleasure of the realization reaches deep into his bones.

“I insist,” he says, but you make no move to leave, and instead to rest your hand on top of his. His throat is tight when he continues, “Wouldn’t you like to sleep?”

“I’d like to get to know you,” you say, running your pointer finger in little circles over the back of his hand. Moments ago, Ren felt too tired to keep his eyes open, fighting against his desire to drift into darkness, but now he is wide awake, and he doesn’t think about resisting when you take his hand in yours and lead him to the bed.

You pull the covers out of the way and lie down, and he joins you on the other side, leaving enough room between you so that there’s no chance of contact on his part, accidental or not. The lights go out, and he feels a little relieved now that he’s hidden from your prying gaze. Your hand finds his once again under the covers, and it’s a little more bearable this time.

“This is better,” you say, and he relaxes.

“What do you want me to call you?” you ask, your voice low and supple in the darkness, like the sound an ocean makes when kissing the shore.

“Ren would be fine,” he whispers back, and you repeat it, the name sweeter when spoken from your lips. There is a long pause in your conversation, and for a moment he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, until you begin stroking the back of his hand again with lazy shapes. He mentally weighs the potential embarrassment of asking you to say his name again, and just the thought of it is thrilling.

“If there’s anything that you need, I can have it brought to the ship. Some clothes, maybe?” He says instead. 

“That would be nice.” He can feel your hesitation for a moment, something that you’re not saying, and he squeezes your hand on instinct, but you still don’t speak.

“Anything else?” He asks, and then continues before he can decide against it, “I want you to be happy here.”

“I’m not sure, really. There’s so much I don’t know about life outside my home. But, if it’s not an inconvenience … some paints, maybe?”

“Of course.” You sit in silence, another long pause as he tries to ignore the feeling of your body only inches from his, the slight depression in the bed seems cavernous, and it’s taking quite a bit of effort to avoid falling into you.

“Ren?” you say, breaking the quiet; it fills him with joy to hear you speak his name again. He hums lowly to show that he is listening, and you turn on your side to face him. He can see your outline, your shadowy figure a little darker than the rest of the room. You pull yourself closer, your hands still intertwined, your arms parallel, and your hair tickles his shoulder, your breath grazes his neck.

“I think I will be happy here,” you say, resting your head on him gently, and for the first time he can remember, Kylo Ren sleeps peacefully.

[miriamkperceptionblog]

Week 7

Independent study 

Come to your Senses: Investigate your own senses. Focus on the sense of smell, taste, hearing and touch (not vision). 

Currently, as Im writing this I am sitting in my cold, and damp Wellington flat. I am sitting on my couch in my lounge. I am going to investigate my senses from where I am sitting. ( I always sit here while I do my design work). I have never thought of my surrounding in any other way than “just my flat” and never thought much about my surroundings in a deep sensory way. Im excited. 

Smell -  

I can smell my flatmates cooking their vegan hello fresh nachos. Along with the dusty curtains to my left, and a hint of the flowery perfume I put on this morning, which has now gone stale. 

Taste - 

I can’t describe the taste in my mouth… its just my spit.. I haven’t eaten anything in over an hour now and Its hard to describe this taste because I am so used to it. 

Sound- 

I can hear my flatmates food sizzle and the crunch of their coin chip packet, along with the occasional banging of the spatular on the edge of the pan. I can hear the fridge open and close and the sticking together of the magnets. I can hear the eco of our wooden floor under their feet as-well as feeling the vibrations each step makes. 

The details of a touch/haptic/tactile experience-

Im currently holding my laptop on my lap. The metal was cold and hard at the beginning of my sit but is now warm and comfortable. I can feel the fan from my laptop spinning and vibrating my laptop against my thighs. My fingers on my keyboard feel a-little greasy and warn now. My track pad has a small blog of hardened glue on it and I can feel it every time I move my mouse. It feels sharp and hard.

2. Undertake some online research to learn about terms like proprioception, body awareness, haptic, equilibrioception, mechanoreception, balance, vibration. 

Proprioception/ noun. 

Perception or awareness of the position and movement of the body.

Proprioception refers to the body's ability to perceive its own position in space. Such as: Knowing whether feet are on soft grass or hard concrete, without looking (even while wearing shoes). Activities which strengthen you proprioception-crawling, push-ups, or squats. The sense though which we perceive the position and movement of our body, including our sense of equilibrium and balance, senses that depend on the notion of force.

Body awareness. 

Body awareness is the internal understanding of where the body is in space. Body awareness is highly influenced by proprioceptive processing, the sensory information one receives from the movement and force of muscles and joint groups.

A person's understanding of his or her own body parts and their capability of movement.

Haptic.

Haptic perception is the process of recognizing objects through touch. It involves a combination of somatosensory perception of patterns on the skin surface (e.g., edges, curvature, and texture) and proprioception of hand position and conformation. Haptics is the science and technology of transmitting and understanding information through touch. “haptic” means anything relating to the sense of touch. (It's derived from the Greek word for touch.) Haptic can be used in design! Such as being used to engage people's sense of touch to enhance the experience of interacting with onscreen interfaces. For example, when an Apple Pay transaction is confirmed, the system plays haptics in addition to providing visual and auditory feedback.

Equilibrioception/sense of balance. 

Is one of the physiological senses. It allows humans and animals to walk etc. without falling. Some animals are better in this than humans, for example allowing a cat (as a quadruped using its inner ear and tail) to walk on a thin fence. 

This is the same as when you pedal your bike. The speed of the tires on your bike allows it to balance. 

mechanoreception. 

A mechanoreceptor, also called mechanoceptor, is a sensory cell that responds to mechanical pressure or distortion. There are four main types of mechanoreceptors in glabrous, or hairless, mammalian skin: lamellar corpuscles (Pacinian corpuscles), tactile corpuscles (Meissner's corpuscles), Merkel nerve endings, and bulbous corpuscles. 

Balance/noun. 

a state of equilibrium or equipoise; equal distribution of weight, amount, etc. something used to produce equilibrium; counterpoise. mental steadiness or emotional stability; habit of calm behavior, judgment, etc. a state of bodily equilibrium: He lost his balance and fell down the stairs.

Vibration/noun.

Vibratory sensation is the sense of vibration, and may refer to: Vibration as a modality of cutaneous receptors (on the skin), referred to as pallesthesia. Hearing, which is sensation of air vibrations.

Select 1x and design an exercise and then do it. The subject can be either yourself or someone you know - record observations, your/their experience, what did you notice. 

Proprioception- brainstorm. 

Investigation 1 Proprioception

Sensory information you are receiving from your muscles, tendons, and ligaments. 

Using your muscles scenes to control your muscles to keep you upright. For examples-walking on sand. Your muscles are adapting to an environment where you aren’t walking on a firm service and your muscles send information to your brain to tell you the position of your ankles and your knees. 

(Blind people rely on proprioception sense quite a lot.) 

Everyday activity-turning the lights of in my room ( so I can’t see) relying on my Proprioception to find my door handle…or to walk to my bathroom. I will be replying on the information my brain is getting about where my arm is and where i’m walking. Proprioception is what will be giving me this information.  

Recorded observations, your/their experience, what did I notice. 

I asked my flatmate Ava to try find my doorknob while in the dark and blindfolded. She found this task easy as she knew which location/height my door handle was at but I observed the way she walked and put her arm up infant of her. This was interesting as she walked much slower and was unsure of herself. I noticed she was moving her feet in a way that she was almost using them to make sure she didn’t have anything in front of her such as a step. Her arms went up infant of her straight away as she was using them as a guide as-well. She demonstrated proprioception during this activity. 

Resource task. 

Browse through the online resources below, select 1 and be prepared to share your findings  in a group discussion for next week. 

Source - “Marres Maastricht - Education.” Marres, https://marres.org/en/education/. Accessed 15 Sept. 2020.

 “In The Invisible Collection art-lovers describe their favorite works of art. Originally created by Mediamatic Amsterdam, the project aimed to help the visually impaired to imagine works of art based on audio descriptions by art experts. In 2019, Marres developed a new version of The Invisible Collection, in which we started to collect stories about art (broadly defined) by non-art experts.”

I think this is an amazing project-this is based around the sense of hearing/sound. Art is meant to be enjoyed by all and when you can’t see it or feel it, It must make it extremely difficult for the visually impaired to enjoy art. Using this method is extremely beneficial and can create a sense of the artwork in the minds of visually impaired. By being able to hear how people describe the art people may be able to envision their on interpretation of the artwork.  I would defiantly recommend this source to anyone exploring sound as their sense as it gives an insight into how much people you can’t see rely on this sense. 

Key Module Resources. 

Source- Smith, Mark M. “The explosion of sensory history.”(2010): in the psychologist 23(10):860-863. 

Creative Practices

Locate creative producers ( at least 1 in your discipline area)  working with the senses or sense modalities.

“Why Graphic Design Should Engage More Than Just the Sense of Sight.” Eye on Design, 17 Apr. 2018, https://eyeondesign.aiga.org/why-graphic-design-should-engage-more-than-just-the-sense-of-sight/.

Kate McLean’s Sensory Maps

Kate McLean’s maps are visually stunning, peppered with colourful dots and morphing concentric lines. They could almost be galaxies. In actuality, they are Smell Maps, plotting data from various cities that visualises the distinctive smells from different neighbourhoods. Kate McLean generates this data by conducting “smell walks” throughout the cities she maps, asking participants to record odours and their location, intensity, description, and associations. Smells like “canal,” “leafy fresh rain,” and “laundry” are each given a colour and are indicated by dots on the maps. The distorted concentric rings depict the smell’s intensity and range as they're carried by wind, diluted by range, and mixed with neighbouring smells. By plotting her experiential data, Kate makes smell visual and geographical, and makes a case for what information designer Giorgia Lupi calls “soft data.” “Using humans as sensors is a method that aggregates personal insight”. 

[keepingupwithpajaro]

MY LIFE AS A STUDENT NURSE - San Beda University

Taking up nursing as my program for college was really by influenced of my family for the reason that all of them is working under medical field. However, my mother was the one who really pushed me to take up nursing and aside from that it was really a dream of mine since I was a kid. Honestly speaking pursuing this as a career was also an eye opener for me, particularly this time of pandemic. Healthcare providers are the ones being dedicated and heroic facing the pandemic going on.

Hardest part on being a student nurse:

Based on my experience, the hardest part for me was going home from a hospital duty around 12ish AM just because they won’t allow me to stay on a dorm. (fam got sum trust issues you know what im saying) It’s just exhausting for me the fact that I had to travel all the way from Manila to our house here in Pasig which is kind of far. That was really tough and imagine how tired you were from your hospital duty physically, mentally and emotionally plus all the paperworks you have to submit all at the same time. I’m not exaggerating or something but that was really one of the hardest time I have experienced in my nursing journey.

Here are the things or tips that helped me all through out my nursing career:

* Grades don’t define you. (LOL) Nursing isn’t really easy like you have to analyze and be familiar with everything, so if you failed on your quiz you just have to accept the score you got and move on. (Remind yourself: Hey that wasn’t bad after all there’s always another chance.)

* Be familiar with the terms being used. Always. It might be confusing but you’ll get used to it in the long run.

* Focus on yourself, don’t get carried away if you think you are failing. Remember you have a lot of chances, just give yourself more time to think and there’s always a room for improvement.

* Mental health matters. Always.

* Time management is important. If you get home early take a rest for awhile, eat and relax. You don’t wanna get stressed by all these acads thing. Once you feel recharged that the time for you to start doing your schoolworks

* Study habit is important as well, know what helps remember more every lesson or modules you have tackled. Know what helps you improve more.

* There’s no room for negativity.

* Hospital duties are so much fun you’ll get to enjoy your rotation. (even though it is exhausting)

* Enjoy nursing! make more friends, take it easy and just go with the flow. Remember, It will take awhile but you’ll get there soon!

After all, taking up nursing was the best decision I have made in my life and the fact the I am close to reaching my dreams in life overwhelmed me already.

Salute to all Nurses and Doctors!

[jonathanbelloblog]

By Design: 2020 Toyota Supra Styling Analysis

Let me quote something I wrote back in 2014 about the car that would become the precursor to Toyota’s new Supra—the FT-1 concept:

“In many ways, this car is a mess. An intriguing and attractive mess, yes, but a mess all the same. Lines don’t flow very well, details don’t really work, there are conflicting lines and surfaces, and there’s no coherent mechanical plan behind the non-running concept car seen in Detroit [at the 2014 auto show]. But go back to the 50 words in the preceding and note the one that counts: attractive.”

For all its oddities and awkwardness, the FT-1’s styling exercise appealed to a wide range of observers, including the most important one, Akio Toyoda, the CEO of Toyota who pushed the concept to production five years later. Our own omniscient Georg Kacher told us long ago Toyota was working with BMW on a joint-venture sports car. So instead of what I described five years ago as “a three-dimensional sketch,” which is all the FT-1 was, we now have a reasonably priced GT car that’s still a mess stylistically. And still very attractive.

So let’s look at why this basic five-year-old design is so appealing, despite the conflicts and confusion that definitely still exist in today’s Supra. Conflicts, it should be noted, that did not exist in the last A80 model of the Supra series (1993–2002), which was so sleek and well resolved that it was slightly boring. (I also seem to remember it was a little hard to move off dealer lots without financial incentives toward the end of its commercial life.) While that Supra was very nice, it lacked visual character or aggressiveness, which this A90 has in spades. Toyota’s Calty design team in Southern California infused the FT-1 with a lot of competition references. Those—and a few more—remain in the Supra. The brilliantly innovative outside mirror mounting scheme and what I called “the superb and imaginative cockpit” have been removed, presumably by the perpetually present bean counters who insist on economical mediocrity in car companies all over the world.

Despite the cost-saving simplifications imposed by practical reality, like suppressing the glass cover for the engine at the back of the long hood, plenty of drama remains. The Supra sports details like the double-bubble roof and a pair of big-bore, chromed exhaust pipes that supplant the overstyled outlets on the concept; the wheels are simpler and stronger-looking, and some of the excesses—the humped-up rear spoiler comes to mind here—have happily been retained. This is not a watered-down concept. Instead, it’s a producible version of a strong, controversial, and much-appreciated idea that resonated with a wide range of worldwide observers.

One of the intangible but vital aspects of a car’s total visual character is its ability to make you want—no, not just want, but fervently desire—to drive it. From the Detroit auto show feedback in 2014 and 2019, we’d say Toyota has a real winner on its hands.

1. The overhanging nose continued to the base plane on the FT-1, and its retention on this version with a big air intake below it recalls the first swept-wing jet fighter, the North American F-86 Sabre.

2. The slit-like inward extension of the headlamp opening carries through intact from the concept car, a nice visual feature unique to this model.

3. The hood remains quite high well past the front edges of the tires, largely because of European pedestrian safety standards. Then it bends downward to the remainder of the FT-1’s “coffin nose.���

4. The cowl is intriguing in that it is quite flat and straight in the center, dropping off in a generous radius at the outer edges.

5. One of the elements that I suspect most observers like is the double-bubble roof with its reduced frontal area channel through the central roof, where no headroom is needed inside.

6. One of the multiple visual mismatches is the quick-dropping upper window line and the very dissimilar humped-up roof profile.

7. A curious body detail I don’t recall ever having seen anywhere else is a separate piece of door skin forming the (nonfunctional) rear side air inlet, with a frank panel joint line running forward and down to the bottom of the door.

8. A black sill piece starts just behind a section of the fender that makes a visual connection with the painted bottom of the front fender ahead of the wheel opening. It then flows back into yet another F1-like trapezoidal fin for a total of six along the bottom of the body.

9. There’s a lot of complex surface action along the lower body side, with this crease dropping into a line beneath the actual door cut and continuing into the wheel opening.

10. … trapezoidal vertical fin that adheres to the lower corner of the fender.

11. What appears to be an F1-style front wing is actually of a piece with the black lower wing that turns up at its end to make a race car-like …

12. This quite direct intake for the radiator makes more sense than trying to control the flow from the sides toward a central cooling core.

1. The Supra’s forward-facing indent that turns and becomes an outlet looks good and provides a bit of detail to the driver’s eye.

2. Headlamp presentation is extremely well done and very strong graphically.

3. This is a nonfunctional vent (Toyota says it may be used in the future), but the shapes all around it are handsome and nicely modeled.

4. This slit extending the headlamp opening inward is especially effective visually for identification.

5. What appear to be race car front wings are actually of a piece with the black base plate for the front. Altogether the front-end graphics are very well done.

6. That the main air intake is straightforward and looks like what it is evokes a sigh of relief. The blunt painted column of the FT-1 was not practical, but I’d feared something Lexus-horrible here.

7. Keeping the entire upper surface treatment of the FT-1 was admirable, and it’s well integrated to the design.

1. The overdone humped-up spoiler was retained for the production design. Good. Distinction is a positive value on an extroverted design.

2. A lockable gas cap door is preferable to a racing-oriented quick-connect fixture, as racers don’t have to worry about fuel pilfering as the drivers of road cars must.

3. Notice that the forward edge of the (nonfunctional) hot air outlet is above the rear, aiding in dynamic scavenging. It’s a nicely thought-out detail.

4. The little kink in the painted surface separates the sill piece that runs along the bottom of the body into a third trapezoidal fin per side. Excessive, perhaps, but effective visually.

5. The joint line for the add-on door skin piece becomes a design element in itself.

6. You get the impression that the spokes stick out more than necessary, increasing the risk of curb damage.

7. We have seen arced side markers like these on other cars. A direct, simple, and effective solution, they do no visual harm.

8. This little crease derives from the rising line that begins in the front fender side and sags down to a point about a fifth of the way along the bottom of the door.

9. As California hot-rodders showed back in the ’30s, nothing says power quite as boldly and bluntly as shiny, big-bore exhaust pipes. These are perfect for the Supra.

10. Little fins on the rear underside make you think of F1 diffusers, as does the trapezoidal light box in the center of the black mass.

About the FT-1 I said, “The best part of the car is the interior, which is seriously thought out, beautifully made, and extremely satisfying to be in.” About the Supra, I’m afraid I must say that this execution is so boringly gray and sedanlike that it should not be in a sports car at all. There’s nothing of the concept car in it, and the lack of color is deadly. (Toyota does offer a red interior for the Supra as well, depending on spec.)

1. The instrument cowl is just OK, but no more than that.

2. The round airbag cover is Avalon-boring.

3. Between these two joints on the steering wheel rim, Toyota should have made the leather red, as on the FT-1. Red leather is available on the Absolute Zero White and Nocturnal Black Launch Editions, but even then, the wheel is far from the dynamic piece fitted to the concept car.

4. The sedan-style screen is as uninspiring as the rest of the interior.

5. This red stripe on the door panel is the only color other than the seat-belt release buttons. What were they thinking?

There’s no way around it—the original concept interior was vastly superior to what has been accepted for production. At least Toyota could have left us the red.

1. Indenting the vertical slab across the tail for license plates helps by modulating surfaces that I said “really don’t make sense” in our April 2014 By Design on the FT-1.

2. The decklid is minuscule, and loading the trunk would be a chore at best. With 10.1 cubic feet of cargo space, not that much will go into it.

3. The chamfered counterbore aspect of the exhaust pipes is much more effective than just a straight cut-off piece of pipe.

4. This slot doesn’t have any function other than appearance at present, but it’s consistent with the rest of the design.

5. This lamp feature is definitely part of the aggressive performance aura of the Supra.

[jesusvasser]

By Design: 2020 Toyota Supra Styling Analysis

Let me quote something I wrote back in 2014 about the car that would become the precursor to Toyota’s new Supra—the FT-1 concept:

“In many ways, this car is a mess. An intriguing and attractive mess, yes, but a mess all the same. Lines don’t flow very well, details don’t really work, there are conflicting lines and surfaces, and there’s no coherent mechanical plan behind the non-running concept car seen in Detroit [at the 2014 auto show]. But go back to the 50 words in the preceding and note the one that counts: attractive.”

For all its oddities and awkwardness, the FT-1’s styling exercise appealed to a wide range of observers, including the most important one, Akio Toyoda, the CEO of Toyota who pushed the concept to production five years later. Our own omniscient Georg Kacher told us long ago Toyota was working with BMW on a joint-venture sports car. So instead of what I described five years ago as “a three-dimensional sketch,” which is all the FT-1 was, we now have a reasonably priced GT car that’s still a mess stylistically. And still very attractive.

So let’s look at why this basic five-year-old design is so appealing, despite the conflicts and confusion that definitely still exist in today’s Supra. Conflicts, it should be noted, that did not exist in the last A80 model of the Supra series (1993–2002), which was so sleek and well resolved that it was slightly boring. (I also seem to remember it was a little hard to move off dealer lots without financial incentives toward the end of its commercial life.) While that Supra was very nice, it lacked visual character or aggressiveness, which this A90 has in spades. Toyota’s Calty design team in Southern California infused the FT-1 with a lot of competition references. Those—and a few more—remain in the Supra. The brilliantly innovative outside mirror mounting scheme and what I called “the superb and imaginative cockpit” have been removed, presumably by the perpetually present bean counters who insist on economical mediocrity in car companies all over the world.

Despite the cost-saving simplifications imposed by practical reality, like suppressing the glass cover for the engine at the back of the long hood, plenty of drama remains. The Supra sports details like the double-bubble roof and a pair of big-bore, chromed exhaust pipes that supplant the overstyled outlets on the concept; the wheels are simpler and stronger-looking, and some of the excesses—the humped-up rear spoiler comes to mind here—have happily been retained. This is not a watered-down concept. Instead, it’s a producible version of a strong, controversial, and much-appreciated idea that resonated with a wide range of worldwide observers.

One of the intangible but vital aspects of a car’s total visual character is its ability to make you want—no, not just want, but fervently desire—to drive it. From the Detroit auto show feedback in 2014 and 2019, we’d say Toyota has a real winner on its hands.

1. The overhanging nose continued to the base plane on the FT-1, and its retention on this version with a big air intake below it recalls the first swept-wing jet fighter, the North American F-86 Sabre.

2. The slit-like inward extension of the headlamp opening carries through intact from the concept car, a nice visual feature unique to this model.

3. The hood remains quite high well past the front edges of the tires, largely because of European pedestrian safety standards. Then it bends downward to the remainder of the FT-1’s “coffin nose.”

4. The cowl is intriguing in that it is quite flat and straight in the center, dropping off in a generous radius at the outer edges.

5. One of the elements that I suspect most observers like is the double-bubble roof with its reduced frontal area channel through the central roof, where no headroom is needed inside.

6. One of the multiple visual mismatches is the quick-dropping upper window line and the very dissimilar humped-up roof profile.

7. A curious body detail I don’t recall ever having seen anywhere else is a separate piece of door skin forming the (nonfunctional) rear side air inlet, with a frank panel joint line running forward and down to the bottom of the door.

8. A black sill piece starts just behind a section of the fender that makes a visual connection with the painted bottom of the front fender ahead of the wheel opening. It then flows back into yet another F1-like trapezoidal fin for a total of six along the bottom of the body.

9. There’s a lot of complex surface action along the lower body side, with this crease dropping into a line beneath the actual door cut and continuing into the wheel opening.

10. … trapezoidal vertical fin that adheres to the lower corner of the fender.

11. What appears to be an F1-style front wing is actually of a piece with the black lower wing that turns up at its end to make a race car-like …

12. This quite direct intake for the radiator makes more sense than trying to control the flow from the sides toward a central cooling core.

1. The Supra’s forward-facing indent that turns and becomes an outlet looks good and provides a bit of detail to the driver’s eye.

2. Headlamp presentation is extremely well done and very strong graphically.

3. This is a nonfunctional vent (Toyota says it may be used in the future), but the shapes all around it are handsome and nicely modeled.

4. This slit extending the headlamp opening inward is especially effective visually for identification.

5. What appear to be race car front wings are actually of a piece with the black base plate for the front. Altogether the front-end graphics are very well done.

6. That the main air intake is straightforward and looks like what it is evokes a sigh of relief. The blunt painted column of the FT-1 was not practical, but I’d feared something Lexus-horrible here.

7. Keeping the entire upper surface treatment of the FT-1 was admirable, and it’s well integrated to the design.

1. The overdone humped-up spoiler was retained for the production design. Good. Distinction is a positive value on an extroverted design.

2. A lockable gas cap door is preferable to a racing-oriented quick-connect fixture, as racers don’t have to worry about fuel pilfering as the drivers of road cars must.

3. Notice that the forward edge of the (nonfunctional) hot air outlet is above the rear, aiding in dynamic scavenging. It’s a nicely thought-out detail.

4. The little kink in the painted surface separates the sill piece that runs along the bottom of the body into a third trapezoidal fin per side. Excessive, perhaps, but effective visually.

5. The joint line for the add-on door skin piece becomes a design element in itself.

6. You get the impression that the spokes stick out more than necessary, increasing the risk of curb damage.

7. We have seen arced side markers like these on other cars. A direct, simple, and effective solution, they do no visual harm.

8. This little crease derives from the rising line that begins in the front fender side and sags down to a point about a fifth of the way along the bottom of the door.

9. As California hot-rodders showed back in the ’30s, nothing says power quite as boldly and bluntly as shiny, big-bore exhaust pipes. These are perfect for the Supra.

10. Little fins on the rear underside make you think of F1 diffusers, as does the trapezoidal light box in the center of the black mass.

About the FT-1 I said, “The best part of the car is the interior, which is seriously thought out, beautifully made, and extremely satisfying to be in.” About the Supra, I’m afraid I must say that this execution is so boringly gray and sedanlike that it should not be in a sports car at all. There’s nothing of the concept car in it, and the lack of color is deadly. (Toyota does offer a red interior for the Supra as well, depending on spec.)

1. The instrument cowl is just OK, but no more than that.

2. The round airbag cover is Avalon-boring.

3. Between these two joints on the steering wheel rim, Toyota should have made the leather red, as on the FT-1. Red leather is available on the Absolute Zero White and Nocturnal Black Launch Editions, but even then, the wheel is far from the dynamic piece fitted to the concept car.

4. The sedan-style screen is as uninspiring as the rest of the interior.

5. This red stripe on the door panel is the only color other than the seat-belt release buttons. What were they thinking?

There’s no way around it—the original concept interior was vastly superior to what has been accepted for production. At least Toyota could have left us the red.

1. Indenting the vertical slab across the tail for license plates helps by modulating surfaces that I said “really don’t make sense” in our April 2014 By Design on the FT-1.

2. The decklid is minuscule, and loading the trunk would be a chore at best. With 10.1 cubic feet of cargo space, not that much will go into it.

3. The chamfered counterbore aspect of the exhaust pipes is much more effective than just a straight cut-off piece of pipe.

4. This slot doesn’t have any function other than appearance at present, but it’s consistent with the rest of the design.

5. This lamp feature is definitely part of the aggressive performance aura of the Supra.

[bwicblog]

SA: does anyone know scary stories.

TT: your fa(\/)e TT: #goTTem

SA: my face is not a plural.

VV: ♚ ~ Not to mention it's a rather nice face.

SA: thank you ❤

VV: ♚ ~ But I also think scary would depend on the troll, yes? My scary is likely very different from crabbies.

SA: What makes a story scary to you, Perdia?

DD: i dont really know any myself but id love to hear one!

DD: i think so anyways

DD: i dont actually watch horror movies or anything like that very much they always seem so disturbing

DD: but theyre popular around campfires arent they so there must be something to them!!

DD: granted i dont know much about campfires either but thats mostly a circumstance of living underwater until recently

VV: ♚ ~A scary story to me is someone bringing a Birkin to dinner but not bringing a coach bag to put it in just incase it rains...!!

VV: ♚ ~ Or not being prima ballerina anymore.

VV: ♚ ~ truly horrifying.

DD: i think that falls more into the tragedy genre really when you think about it!

DD: horror is when you find out it doesnt matter because it was a knockoff all along! 😛 😛 😛

VV: ♚ ~Be still my tender heart....you're rather correct.

SA: not bringing a coach bag to put it in... in case it rains.

SA: that is very complicated.

SA: I find it easier to have a single wallet.

SA: I enjoy ghost stories. Primarily because I do not believe or feel ghosts.

SA: although i have met mediums.

VV: ♚ ~ Yes! You put the coach in your Birkin, then if it rains you put the Birkin in the Coach. VV: ♚ ~ I have many more things than just a wallet I need a bag to carry it all, may as well be fashionable while I'm at it.

VV: ♚ ~ Did you tell the medium you don't believe?

DD: and really i think the point less about having things to put in your bag and more having the bag in the first place DD: its an accessory!

DD: but oh my goodness i think i believe in ghosts altogether too much

DD: though i guess at the moment im running a little bit more into revenants!! DD: the desert is full of them 😦

SA: oh, no. that would be rude.

SA: I don't understand why you need another bag to put the bag in.

SA: But alright.

SA: yes, there are many out there. so i've heard.

DD: well one of the bags is very valuable fashionable and easy to damage if it ends up in rainy conditions so if you want to be fashionable and be able to bring it places you should have a second less valuable and easily ruinable bag to protect the first one should you need it!

SA: ...Or you could simply have a decent waterproof bag to start that looks well with what you wear.

VV: ♚ ~ Ooooooh this one gets me. I enjoy this seadweller much more than yesternights~ What's your name? I never introduced myself properly, Perdia Averic.

VV: ♚ ~ Honeycomb please, I won't judge your wallet don't judge my superior, luxe bag.

DD: well yes but bags like that typically arent quite as nice! DD: though i spend most of my time underwater so that is what i end up using most of the time anyways admittedly

DD: and oh my goodness well thank you very much that is lovely to hear DD: i was afraid i had come off unfavorably earlier so i am glad that i have not yet succeeded in alienating everyone! DD: my close friend often says i sort of have a way of not being great with people so

DD: although i do agree that vv overall does have a point that while functionality is all well and good if you are into that sort of thing and surrounded by people that are into that sort of thing it really is important to have the appropriate fashionable items at certain times

DD: though i would also argue that does have a function as well just a social one!

SA: well the bag is very pretty with you, little princess. I just could never justify carrying one myself 😃

DD: oh dear i am talking a lot again

DD: my apologies!!

VV: ♚ ~ It's an ultra functional bag~ VV: ♚ ~ Thank you Prisma ✨ I'll carry your wallet for you then. I simply do have looks to upkeep even with my hue. When one works hard to keep a stance certain....choices come with it. VV: ♚ ~ Like a bag in a bag .

VV: ♚ ~ Don't apologize though DD~ You speak a lot but it's not exactly grating. Needs editing, some conciseness of course but ah~ You have a head about you which is more than can be said for some! Pity really. For them of course. They have my pity.

DD: oh but maybe i wouldnt mind some pity insert jokingly coy giggling here DD: you dont happen to be a particularly attractive rainbowdrinker bedecked in frills do you? DD: because i have recently discovered i am quite partial to those! DD: more seriously though thank you that is very lovely to hear especially from a princess of such good taste!

DD: but you are right in that i could do to be more concise my good friend often says similarly though admittedly it is more due to the linebreaks in my codewriting

DD: it is a work in progress!!!

VV: ♚ ~ Oh how transparent you seem to be! I am bedecked in frills often enough but unfortunatley, or rather fortunatley as I am fond of my rougey hue, I am not a jade let alone a deceased one. VV: ♚ ~ Plus my pusher is already claimed hohoho <3 VV: ♚ ~ There's always bound to be one that wanders into this forsaken chat one night though! Sweep them up before another troll does.

VV: ♚ ~ Or go for more...violent measures but I really don't and would never recommend someone get their owns hands dirty.

VV: ♚ ~ Ah! Speaking of maintanence. I must rest. Not that I require much upkeep but a good rest is important! Do rest well new friend, and Honeycomb prince as well~ Good light .

DD: i guess i am pretty transparent but its not as though i have anything to hide really DD: aide from company secrets of course but that's something im good at keeping mum about! DD: and oh dear i dont suppose i really know what you mean when it comes to more violent measures but that sounds like the sort of alarming thing maybe more suited towards the scary stories people brought up earlier!!

DD: and thank you very much i do hope you have a good rest as well!! DD: it is actually nearly moonlight over here as well and i should be turning in soon i just DD: got caught up working on a project of mine and lost track of time! DD: i was just taking a break when i turned on this chat but really i will go to bed DD: i only have to finish... DD: a few more minor things!!! DD: and maybe....

DD: hm!

SA: I apologize, I had to get ready for rest myself.

SA: finish them then?

SA: ..."would never advise someone to get their own hands dirty"

SA: 🤔 goodnight

DD: i am going to finish them!! DD: i just thought of another idea i could implement alongside the module that i am currently editing and oh dear

DD: i cant just stop now! DD: i am on a roll

DD: also i do believe our dear vv is advocating for the use of an auspistice! DD: or an assassin!! DD: i am not quite sure which!

DD: though i am a little bit inclined to select the mediator option on account of i have had some rather hands on dealings with assassins lately and it has all left a sour taste in my mouth!

DD: and not even the good kind of sour like you get with pickled herring

DD: oh dear i believe i am craving fish again DD: there is NO FISH here in the desert!!

ID: alright status report, how is everyone doing post-faire?

SA: Working.

SA has sent IMG_045.png. It is a selfie of him, angled high enough to show a blue or dark indigo troll pinned on the ground. They appear to be unconscious

ID: pftttt. nice selfie background there. better be careful. =:P

SA: this is the last one for the night 😄

SA: I am excited to go hive and sleep.

SA: How are you? How was the party at Siparas?

ID: i'm sure you are.

ID: i'm good. tired, but i didn't expect to sleep well so it's whatever. watched way more fantasy trolls crying about having to dump a magic ring than i ever wanted to.

SA: Oh, it was the lord of the rings?

SA: what would you do if your friend wouldn't let go of the ring, Hadean.

ID: uh i probably would have ganked the ring like. a perigee ago lbh.

SA: it isn't even that useful... Doesn't it just turn the wearer invisible?

ID: i don't know, the evil dude seemed to make it seem like it could do more. maybe it can amplify psi or something. i think the main whiny guy was a flatscan.

SA: maybe. How else would you become a flaming eye.

SA: truly living the life.

ID: idk it was fun. lots of eyecandy at least.

SA: the elves are always nice ❤

SA: I appreciate the costuming more than anything. much better than the chainmail bikinis at the faire.

ID: i liked aragon. he seemed like a cool guy.

SA: And he even got all of his quadrants in the end with his kingdom surviving.

ID: and he got to lead like. all the cool fights.

SA: I'm growing my hair out.

SA: this is what I've gained from this conversation.

SA: I want you to know this.

SA: Hang on, my client is being difficult.

ID: pff if you're gonna, go for it! you got one of those damn mugs that gets to look good no matter what, so.

AA: omggg. but will it blow majestically in the wind? >:}

ID: he already can see stuff.

ID: pris, what do your cuspy eyes see?

SA: Me beating the shit out of this fuchsia if they don't double my pay.

ID: pffff live the dream pris. and get good with a bow.

SA: I am good with a long distance rifle, does that count

SA: No, it will not blow majestically in the wind.

SA: problem resolved. cusp is now theirs.

SA: I can go hive now.

ID: i mean a rifle is just an advanced bow right. so sure.

AA: booooo, no point in long hairn w/o it blowing.

ID: uh the point is to put it in a cool braid. obvs.

AA: brnaid? singularn?? n.

AA: go big orn go home, hads, gotta have, like, at L E A S T a dozen beforne they'rne cool. >:}

SA: Hadean's hair is. too long.

ID: bite me. =:I i like my braid.

AA: you like plenty of lame shit, brnah, embrnace it. accept yrn weak sauce brnaid tastes. >:P

AA: and too long???

SA: emerel stepped on it during the fight, that's too long.

ID: i got him off of it, didn't i?

ID: i mean him stepping on it was just being spiteful.

ID: and i really should've put a spike through his foot for it.

AA: y, that. on both. AA: you can't do yrn app by what ppl might grnab, othernwise, you'll just, like. AA: look borning as fuck. >:P

ID: i mean if it wasn't my braid, he'd have been stomping on my horns.

ID: i have a very grab-able appearance.

SA: I feel as if his foot would have rolled off though due to the shape.

SA: You do.

SA: If I ever need to stop you I can just reach slightly a head but I may also clothesline you

ID: wow pris, don't clothesline me. or grab at me, hella rude. why would you need to stop me! =:P

SA: Maybe I saw something cute in a window and wanted to show you while shopping.

SA: I have clotheslined people as they've ran away, however. It is. hilarious.

SA: because I knoww here they will be so I stategically do nothing.

ID: ....it's called telling me to stop pris, c'mon.

SA: I know that

SA: Please, like I would actually do it...

ID: i like not being clotheslined. =:P

SA: I would never clothesline you.

SA: does that help

ID: yes.

SA: In general i would never intentionally cause you harm.

SA: sleep well at night.

AA: lmao. awww.

AA: but will you watch him while he sleeps to guarantee he sleeps well?? bc, like, if we'rne clarnifying things, that totes is apparnently a thing that should be clarnified, too.

ID: no we cleared that watching people sleep is fucking creepy.

SA: I am not going to watch him sleep...

ID: though apparently pheres disagrees.

AA: okay, okay, good. >:}

SA: I admit I am unsettling but i am at least vaguely aware of proximics and personal boundaries.

ID: i sleep like shit without worrying about someone watching me sleep. =:I

AA: we do not talk abt phern's shitty rnom tastes, 'kay, we just close ourn bulbs and trny to ignorne them.

AA: and gj, prni. AA: the vaguely is totes still ominous tho. >:} jsyk.

SA: it is what i do best.

SA: It's how i keep my clients in line and from not abducting me 😉

SA: nom tastes?

ID: romantic tastes.

SA: ah.

AA: .... AA: ........ AA: WTF arne yrn clients trnying to abduct you forn.

SA: nothing, it was a joke.

ID: oh.

SA: however I would be a convenient thing to trap and use of free.

ID: i figured they'd try and abduct you to use your psi without having to, y'know. pay you. seems about right.

SA: yes

SA: I've only been threatened a few times.

SA: The Provenance underground is much more managable, though.

AA: >:{

AA: did you cull em?

ID: trolls can be fucking weird.

SA: They have been dealt with in a way that doesn't cause me long-standing harm, let me put it like this.

SA: murder isn't a sollution always, their court will come after you.

ID: you ever meet some of those highbloods that read helmsman romance.

ID: they'll make you want to scrub your skin raw after talking to them for like. a second.

AA: hmph. did you at least make a good example of them?? bc, like, if yrn getting pushed arnound, then not fucking making a points only gonna get theirn peeps brnave.

SA: I don't get pushed around.

AA: ugh, y. lived with one. they'rne the fucking wornst.

AA: good!!

SA: don't worry, I am fairly good at this.

SA: as naive as I often seem.

SA: crime and work and military are things i excel at.

ID: the fucking worst is right.

SA: What happens in helmsman romances?

ID: and go pris. =:)

SA: I understand the concept but... how.

AA: y, y, obvs you arne a strnong independent - hahahaha.

AA: hads can dd you, bc I ain't in the mood to scrnub my hands clean aftern. >:P

ID: oh. you know. usually they start out in a clade or a quad. and then end up getting drafted to the helm. and the highblood happens to be on the same ship.

SA: ...what is a clade.

SA: I have been holding off asking for fear of embarassment

ID: ah... like... the trolls that are quadded to your quad?

SA: ah.

AA: y! enclades arne the ppl you ain't piling, but, like, you still can't cull, bc it'd be fucked up. and if someone culls them, you gotta rnetaliate, orn Y RN fucked up.

ID: yeah. sips knows. i'm like the worst troll to talk about clades.

SA: ...that is immensely complicated.

ID: yeah social shit usually is.

AA: also, ngl, the ones I knew abt werne all, like, crneepy bluebloods falling forn theirn ship, bc the insurnmountable bond bw trnoll and ship, ect ect, and, like, despernate lost in space piles, and pirnate rnaids makin' the helms all like 'I'm the only one allowed to cull them!!', and AA: ughhh, I'm grnossing myself out.

ID: i know mostly about the younger helms novels.

AA: >:? AA: it isn'ttttt. it's totes ez, dudes.

SA: that's. horrific.

SA: that would be like writing a romance story between my program psions and their handlers.

SA: but much worse, because were are children

SA: disgusting.

ID: yeah, well. it happens.

ID: and some trolls really buy in to the idea.

ID: me and pris have never been a part of a clade so. it seems complicated to us.

SA: it sounds like it would cause a long chain cycle of revenge.

ID: i mean being part of a clade is supposed to help. prevent trolls from wanting to cull your ass i think?

ID: for fear of being counter-culled by the clade.

SA: But I feel like it would make it hard to operate as well.

SA: fear of causing tension or rejection.

SA: attrox's matesprit was a virulent, hateful thing who was also quadded to my roommate.

SA: and there was a lot of tension between him and anyof attrox's other quadrants or friends.

SA: htey broke up perhaps because of my intervention.

SA: I don't feel particularly bad.

ID: that's when you get an ashen or whatever. or break up, that works.

SA: how do you auspistice something when they don't acknowledge there is a problem?

SA: despite one of them crying contantly about how much they hurt.

SA: I do not know.

SA: I would be happy with a red or a romantic pale, if I had to have a quadrant. And just one.

AA: i mean, y, can totally starnt a wicked rnevenge cycle. but it's like hads said. AA: and lmao, you can't be a clade if ppl arne unhealthy shitfurnoodles, dude. all you can do is wipe yrn hands of that shit.

AA: .. why not pitch?? >:

AA: >:?

ID: my bachelor lifestyle has worked out alright for me.

SA: there's reasons but i'd rather not explain.

AA: you don't gotta quad if you don't wanna. but, like, idk, don't let crnazy fuckerns turn you off?? ppl arne always batshit. AA: and quads arne fun. >:} like, idk, i ain't evern without a pitch, bc.. it'd be fucking borning.

SA: i don't see excitement in that, though.

AA: flushrnoms lame tho, txt it.

SA: i have enough excitement in my life. I would be happy knowing I feel safe with someone.

ID: i mean pitch is supposed to be safe rivalry.

SA: Well yes but that's not what i meant.

AA: yrn supposed to feel safe w yrn kismesis, losern. if they'rne dangernous, it ain't pitch, it's, like. fucked up pale w pails.

SA: what

ID: idk i have a shitty personality for quads, so i just leave them be.

ID: yeahhh some people pail their pales. weird quadrant smearing stuff.

AA: y, it's grnoss. and stfu, yrn fine. have you evern even trnied having a quad??

SA: Pailing is.

SA: unsanitary.

SA: kissing is fine though. i think kissing would be nice in theory.

SA: but nothing is better than my cold bed.

ID: ...

AA: lmaooo.

AA: well, shit, then get a fish.

AA: >:P

SA: i left the airconditioning on so everything is cold and it's very nice.

SA: ...I don't... want a fish.

ID: i like lukewarm best.

ID: i got too hot and too cold easy.

SA: sharing a bed with you must be hell on alternia.

ID: only if you don't want me to bake you. =:P

SA: see.

AA: rneal talk!! have neithern of you, like, evern had quads??

AA: evern?? >:

AA: >:?

ID: i mean... nah.

SA: No.

SA: quads were discouraged for program psions.

SA: I actually believe we are all sterile so it wouldn't matter.

SA: But I am unsure of the specifics.

AA: holy shit. at both of you - AA: uH.

SA: ...

SA: was that too much information.

AA: y. am kinda curnious how the f you know that, but, like, sparne me the deets.

SA: i think you misunderstand but i will spare you.

ID: it's okay pris, we can be quadless coolguys.

SA: excellent. we can be Kool together.

SA: just what i wanted.

AA: wow, rnude, making a club wo me. when I'm like, rnight herne. AA: I am qqing irnl, jsyk.

ID: what, you got no quads?

AA: n, i've had way2many to join yrn quadfrnee club. >:P

SA: then continue qqing

ID: exactly, so no blubbering. =:P

SA: :p

AA: so go get quads and join the lam -- LMAO M E A N.

AA: fucking rnude frnom both of you. >:}

SA: only the best of rudeness for you, sipara.

SA: ❤

ID: deal with it. =:P

AA: no wondern you don't have any w those shining pernsonalities. AA: ... omg, okay, but prni is forngiven, bc that's qt A N D weirnd.

AA: hads can still fuck off tho. >:P

ID: =:PPPP

SA: Oh--- haha

ID: i've just managed fiiine without quads.

AA: lmao, if you say so.

SA: same.

AA: lbrn tho, idk how anyone manages without a moirnail.

ID: like i do. duh.

AA: .. inc you, mrn dumpstern firne.

SA: you surround yourself with stable individuals.

SA: like me.

SA: i am impervious to emotional distress.

ID: rude!

ID: i just do whatever i want and it usually works out!

AA: y, see, that's not actually good. >:}

AA: and lmaooo. y, like getting stabbed w a halbernd wornks out, rnight? >:P

ID: i'm still alive aren't i

ID: and i didn't technically lose.

ID: so it mostly worked out.

AA: that's a low fucking barn to have, losern.

ID: and yet i limbo under it like a pro.

AA: loooook. rnails arne forn, like.. making surne you don't rnun into shit like that. orn crnack yrn horns on yrn stupid limbo barn of surnvival. orn prni doesn't get jumped forn being weirnd and emojiless at the wrnong time.

AA: if you don't have any othern quads, you should totally have that.

SA: wouldn't it be a high bar because it would be so easy to pass.

SA: if it were limb.

ID: the only troll i can trust to have my best interests at pumper is myself. i'm just my own moirail, clearly.

ID: sometimes i'm just lazy on the job.

AA: lmao, yrn a p shit one, then. trnade up!!

SA: you and hadean often stop me from revealing all my secrets, which is good enough.

SA: but in day to day life whether or not I properly express myself is often irrelevant and infact volatile high bloods often take it as a threat as i cann't be coerced convetnionally.

ID: hey, i'm doing alright. =:P

ID: i'm too high maintenance for anyone else to stand.

SA: i find you tolerable if extremely unwise.

SA: 😄

AA: wherne is yrn hotel rnoom again, bc I'm gonna punch you. >:}

SA: (this is a joke)

SA: Whose?

AA: and lmao, prni. gd.

AA: hads. Ï can't punch you. that'd be so fucked up. >:}

SA: ... why

SA: I demand equal punching rights.

ID: i'll give you my punch coupon pris.

SA: thank you for this generous gift

LC: [ ... I see everYYone is doing well and fine ]

AA: n, too bad, you ain't getting em. these fists arne a summern exclusive and I've alrneady stamped Hads name on both.

SA: sipara's coachella fists.

AA: y!!

ID: =:'( don't punch me, i'm already half broke already.

LC: [ So what exactlYY did Hadean do that he is going to get punched, and Sipara whYY do YYou want to get punched? ] LC: [ I see no logical reason behind... wanted to get punched is all. ]

ID: oh hi yern.

SA: hello yern.

LC: [ Hello. ]

ID: pris is gonna punch me because she's jelly of my self-moirail abilities.

SA: let me take hadean's punch for him.

SA: i am sipara now.

AA: arne you punching him now??

SA: =>:} worms

AA: LMFAO

LC: [ Is that... healthYY though? ] LC: [ Oh mYY. ]

AA: G T F Ö, you rnuined my quirnk.

ID: it's like looking in a mirror huh sips.

SA: =>:} wornms.

ID: better?

AA: y, ty ty, gj.

SA: oh yes, the rn thing.

ID: i'm healthy as fuck yern.

AA: also like brnb must feed and watern lal. and by that, I mean he's snorning and I'm pourning watern on him til he stops. >:{

SA: oh dear.

ID: get it up his nub, that'll get him.

SA: ...nose?

LC: [ But is self-moirailing healthYY? I am not aware of such research paper existing as of right now. ] LC: [ To a degree, I am positive it works and I hope it's not just YYour last ditch effort of taking care of YYourself. ]

ID: hahah wowww. last ditch effort, that's hella rude.

SA: self moirailing could also be considered minding.

ID: i'm positive i'm a well oiled self-moirailing machine.

SA: which is a required skill for basic social navigation and problem solving.

SA: so I don't have it.

SA: :p

ID: =:P

LC: [ Well, I am not suggesting YYou can't get a moirail even if YYou wanted to. ] LC: [ And well. ]

ID: and cheat on myself? never.

ID: it's impossible to break up with yourself. i'm pretty sure.

SA: you could look at your reflection and tell it you are done with its shit.

AA: ^^^^

ID: i don't take breakups well, i'd start strangling myself. =:'(

AA: brneak the mirnrnorn!!

LC: [ I mean, that works. ]

SA: "i'm finding a REAL moirail now!"

AA: yeah!!

SA: this tells me a lot more about hadean's coping mechanisms than I would like

ID: why are you all so against me as my moirail, hella rude.

SA: note to self: strangulation is a hazard.

ID: i cope just fine!

AA: bc you desernve a prnettiern one, duh, and we only want the best form you. >:}

SA: technically I am my own moirail too only I haven't stated it outloud.

AA: and by best, we mean prnettiest.

SA: so no one can drag me.

SA: ... oh...

ID: i'm pretty as fuck. =>:P

LC: [ Well, maYYbe we care about YYou. ] LC: [ I might not know YYou as well as the others but. I think the others might be able to vouch for mYY words. ]

AA: prni. prniiiiiii.

LC: [ Prisma. ]

AA: I'm gonna drnag you now.

ID: yeah let's focus on pri he needs this more.

SA: do you want to see me make this chat sad in one sentence.

AA: ❤

SA: i'm going to.

SA: my inhibitor is my moirail.

SA: 😃

AA: oh, gtfo m

LC: [ When YYou saYY no one can drag YYou, that's a prettYY open invitation. ]

LC: [ Uhm. ]

ID: i mean. i guess it does stop you from doing anything too dumb.

LC: [ I... guess. ]

AA: hads, n.

AA: that's dumb and yrn dumb.

AA: almost as dumb as that statement. >:{

SA: it stops me from destroying myself which is the same thing, right.

ID: yeah!

SA: you narrowly limbo under death and I narrowly avoid having a catastrophic meltdown.

ID: now if it'll shock you when you blab too much.

SA: you already do that.

SA: oh wait doe this mean I can't use hearts anymore.

SA: <>

ID: whoa there pris, don't make me get jealous over myself.

SA: hahaha

AA: wait wtf you knew what hrnts werne the entirne time??

ID: back off my man.

ID: i'll cut you.

LC: [ YYou guYYs could reallYY use a moirail. ]

SA: ... what do you mean I knew what hearts were the entire time.

SA: of course I knew what i meant everytime I did this

SA: ❤

SA: I can't believe you all thught i was enough of a space cadet to not know.

SA: oh my god.

AA: oh my god, i take back my hrnt at you, weirndo.

ID: i got my moirai yern, duh.

AA: Ö H M Y G Ö D. fuck offffff. >:}

ID: i can't let myself hear all this negative talk about myself. i'll get mad.

AA: yrn exactly that level of space cadet.

ID: and hey pris i figured you knew what they meant.

ID: i mean. it's a heart.

ID: you're naive, not idiotic.

SA: oh so sipara just thought I was a fool.

SA: alright I see how it is.

SA: it's not weird, it's a way of denoting affection.

SA: my hearts are platonic.

SA: unless specified otherwise.

ID: 🖤

SA: oh it's invisible.

ID: use that one. really fuck with trolls.

SA: thank you ❤

LC: [ Ah, uh. I forgot to finish mYY sentence. ] LC: [ Hadean, well I trust YYou that it works so I hope it will keep working. ] LC: [ And uh. Invisible hearts? ]

ID: 🖤 🖤 🖤

ID: are they invisible? i see them.

LC: [ I see. For sYYmbolizing "platonic love" but not in the <> sense? ]

SA: they look sort of invisible on my phone but my backlight is dark.

LC: [ Or did I just miss the point. ]

SA: i think it's more for kismesisitude crossed with matespritship.

ID: they don't have a white heart this is bullshit.

LC: [ ... Wouldn't that be a black heart? ]

AA: i can't see them eithern. >:{

SA: well it is a black hert.

ID: 💙 we can use this one for platonic hearts?

SA: but that requires... finding it in the list.

AA: haaads, stop trn - nnnnn.

AA: and it's blue!!

SA: or you could all assume that if I'm using a heart... it's... platonic.

ID: 💚

SA: and you all can use the multicolored rainbow hearts.

SA: nevermind I like that one.

SA: that's my new heart.

SA: it's my color.

AA: prni, it's way morne fun if yrn, like, madly in love with evernyone, tho.

ID: there you go!

LC: [ Ah. ] LC: [ Noted. ] LC: [ And it is. ] LC: [ Sipara please. ]

ID: i fixed everything. again.

SA: yes, sipara. I will die for you i am so in. love. with you.

AA: yrn like the rnomcom lead we nevern wanted!!

SA: Hadean too

SA: everyone in this chat.

LC: [ Heh. ]

SA: you are all. my matesprit.

AA: amazing. >:} wait no wow back it up.

ID: hey i don't share! rude!

SA has sent :/.png it's a selfie of him makng an even more unamused face than usual

LC: [ Incredible. ]

SA: oh so I can only pick one is that it.

AA: it's gotta be unrneciprocated, that's wherne the com comes in!!

ID: i though the com comes from them both feeling romantic inclinations but not knowing how to act on them correctly.

AA has sent DUH.PNG. It's a selfie of her sticking out her tongue like a mature adult.

AA: why not both, hads??

SA: I thught the commeant comedy.

LC: [ YYou must pick Prisma. ] LC: [ Though while I understand it's currentlYY for amusement's sake. ]

LC: [ ... I hope. ]

SA: Who has to pick prisma.

SA: this is morphing into a dystopian love carat.

SA: everyone wants me and I don't want anyone.

ID has sent ravishingromcominterest.png! It's a selfie of him with his hair down making the most overdramatic puppy eyes.

AA: p surne i watched an anime like that once. >:P

SA: anti-harem.

AA: !!!

SA: Put those eyes away, Hadean.

ID: never.

SA: i don't wnat that face on my phome.

ID: too late.

SA: damn you.

ID: =:PPPPP

SA: 💚

LC: [ Well, I got some romantic interest lYYing elsewhere, so I have alreadYY picked them. SorrYY for letting YYou down Prisma. ]

AA: why keep yrn hairn brnaided?? it's so fucking shiny.

SA: oh, well, yern.

ID: uh because it fucking tangles to fucking hell. duh.

SA: that's fine I didn't want you anywyas.

SA: i am now the spiteful lead.

SA: it's called conditioner.

AA: y, why not brnush it morne and keep it unbrnaided??

LC: [ Well, no offense was taken. ]

AA: Y E A H.

ID: and yeah i got some sweet hair. even though i abuse the fuck out of it.

ID: conditioner costs cash!

ID: and i don't want to be brushing it 24/7 when i'm traveling.

SA: at least put it in a ponytail every so often.

LC: [ WhYY would YYou need to brush it 24/7 while travelling. ] LC: [ Just brush it at the morning, then at the evening. If the weather is windYY, tie it up. ]

SA: wouldn't it be easier to have short hair because you can't take careo f it....?

SA: get a hipster cut like mine.

LC: [ Well I happen to have quite a long hair and I also travel alot. ]

SA: i now advocate you being bald.

LC: [ It's manageable, and also up to what others feel comfortable with. ]

LC: [ Well, no thank YYou. MYY hair is prettYY nice as it is. ]

LC: [ I have a feeling being bald got more disadvantages than advantages to it. ]

SA: not if you wear hats.

SA: I am not tired for once and I don't know how to feel about this.

LC: [ I am not a fan of hats. TheYY are weird. ] LC: [ Wouldn't YYou feel, well, content? Not feeling like falling into a nap for once. ]

ID: i like my braid. =:I

SA: I will make you a daisy chain to loop in it when you come shopping.

ID: my face doesn't look as nice with short hair i don't think.

AA: nnnn, don't cut yrn hairn. long headfluff is bettern, obvs. prni, you should grnow yrns out. >:P

ID: why is your hair short then sips.

SA: i'll grow mine out when I'm ready to commit to a domestic stepford quad.

SA: 😐

LC: [ Well that sounds quite unfortunate. ]

SA: why is your hair short, then, yes

AA: it was down to the floorn, tyvm, and some chucklefuck cut it off.

AA: >:1

LC: [ Long hair can be quite useful. ]

SA: ...what is its use? as a rope?

LC: [ It can warm the back YYour neck during winter. YYou could use it to get cozYY with the help of it. And no. ]

ID: ah man that sucks. =:/

ID: cull them for it?

ID: or chop their hair back? =>:D

SA: scalp them.

SA: two birds one stone.

LC: [ And oh. Did YYou fight them back Sipara? ]

AA: lmfao. that was like, six pernigees ago. it's way longern than it was. and y, y, dnw, i cut off theirn frnonds and fed them to them. >:P

AA: bettern than culling!

SA: that's even worse than i imagined.

ID: i mean i don't go to cold places too much and i'm constantly warm, so. i just like my hair.

SA: I feel sick now.

SA: not really.

ID: hahahah, that'll teach 'em.

AA: it's a jk, nerndlet.

SA: I wish i had someone to get breakfast with.

SA: it did teach them I am sure.

SA: and also brutally traumatized them

ID: damn, i liked the feeding them fronds idea.

ID: what. was it the yellow chucklefuck?

ID: ....fillin?

SA: ....yellow chucklefuck?

LC: [ Well that's a combination of words I didn't expect to see... together. ]

ID: it's some sparkplug that got brainwashed in to being downw ith clowns or something, dnw.

LC: [ Wow. How unfortunate. Like, genuinelYY unfortunate. ]

SA: that's. horrific.

SA: I still can't believe we have...

LC: [ It is. ]

SA: nevermind.

SA: I am a good person.

AA: haha, n, it was a lame-o teal frnom the rning. same place as my face. >:1 AA: and hmm?

AA: haha, it's a little fucked, y.

SA: teals are unusually arrogant.

LC: [ Well, I most definitelYY don't want to know how manYY non-purplebloods got "brainwashed" to be part of the Dark Carnival. ]

ID: teals are the worst. they're in that in-between area that makes them overcompensate.

AA: ^

ID: i mean it's no worse than young psis getting brainwashed by everything else that'll brainwash you. really.

SA: military.

LC: [ MYY experiences with tealbloods been reallYY... mixed. But there are some who are trulYY trYYing to overcompensate. ]

SA: trafficking.

SA: etc

ID: exactly. we're such a hot commodity doncha know.

LC: [ Well, anYYkind of brainwashing is still brainwashing and negativelYY well... affects the troll in question. ]

SA: in some ways it was a positive experience for me.

AA: oh my god.

LC: [ YYou are the rare exception in that case. ]

LC: [ Unless it was pure sarcasm. Then nevermind. ]

ID: i mean. trolls like pris are becoming depressingly more common, y'know?

SA: no, I did learn much more from my program than I would haveb eing left on planet without being put in.

SA: But I would also still have complete feelings.

ID: they're deciding we don't last long enough to get a happy wrigglerhood.

SA: so you tell me.

SA: yes.

SA: My saboteur training began as soon as I was old enough to think and obey.

LC: [ I am aware. ]

AA: idk, it ain't that bad, if you don't have them cutting into yrn pan. AA: i mean, we'rne all gonna end up in the militarny anyway. >:/

SA: 😃 will we

ID: i mean. that's a big if for some of us there sips.

SA: I won't.

ID: you were already in the military pris, that counts.

SA: damn you.

LC: [ Well, I wish lowerbloods got more leewaYY just as higherbloods. And I don't have manYY intentions to be part of the militarYY. ]

SA: no but if you are sorted there then you will be but if not you will be fine.

SA: if I were recaptured and retested I would still tesr for the military based on psionics but also because my protective instincts are outrageously high.

SA: lavender chai sounds good.

LC: [ Well I'd rather not. I am a cartographer and a mapmaker, not a troll who wants to deal with official paperwork and not seeing a planet for the rest of mYY lifespan. ] LC: [ ... And I am aware I am more fortunate that I can counter-argue against it. ]

SA: you could become part of recon

ID: i mean yer is high enough, he'll get some more choice.

ID: esp if he's actually good at what he wants to do.

ID: ...you're a he, right.

LC: [ Well, I positivelYY am. And YYes. ]

ID: see? nothing for him to worry about.

LC: [ If I happened to end up as a ship captain or anYYthing (Not sure if I'd qualifYY), I'd probablYY do mYY best to provide mYY crew an actuallYY pleasant... work experience. ]

LC: [ Which is a major "If", cause being a ship captain sounds stressful. ]

ID: man, my pumper breaks for you. =:P

LC: [ I see YYour sarcasm and I am not going to counter it with sarcasm. ]

ID: good because i would have had to make it weird if you did.

SA: I don't know if you want praise for this attempt to be a decent person or not

ID: c'mon pris, he's trying! that's better than like. most of the highbloods in here.

LC: [ ... Prisma. ] LC: [ I am aware I am "priviliged" and no waYY will I ever experience what lowerbloods got to go through. ]

LC: [ I am prettYY self-aware, thank YYou verYY much. ]

SA: I never said you weren't.

LC: [ Well, some implications were there. AnYYwaYY. I am not going to go into anYYkind of sob stories. ] LC: [ I am just generallYY trYYing to be a decent troll and not judge one bYY it's caste if theYY happen to be lower on the spectrum. ]

ID: so yern, you watch lord of the rings.

LC: [ I saw it a long while ago with a friend. WhYY? ]

ID: because i just watched it and i now judge everyone based on which eyecandy they like best.

ID: so c'mon. desert island, stuck with one of them. which one.

AA: hads taste is shit, btw.

ID: fuck off aragon was alright for a fish.

ID: though i did like her better before i knew she was a fish.

ID: bitch tricked me in to liking her. D:<=

EA: +Can confirm. Shit tast=.-

ID: you guys could've told me she was a fish!

AA: wrnong, legolas was totes bettern. AA: but ikrn? she was sornt of qt if you didn't know she was hiding fucking gills.

LC: [ Well, I am not a big movie buff and it's been awhile ago since I saw it, so I'd have to rewatch it to make a decision based on it. ]

ID: i was betrayed by all of you and i'll never forgive you.

AA: U N F Ö RN T U N A T E L Y.

ID: http://img14.deviantart.net/142f/i/2013/233/e/4/lady_aragorn_1_by_lauratolton-d6j3xy7.jpg

ID: so much better before she was totally revealed as a fish. =:'(

EA: +W=ll, h=r b=ing garbag= had nothing to do with th= fins, r=ally. If you ask m=. - EA: +It was th= fact that sh= was in a garbag= movi= s=ri=s.-

ID: i mean it could have used like. 200% more bloodshed.

ID: the talking parts got too fancy and boring sometimes. =:/

LC: [ Well, that's what YYou get when the director is a seadweller. ]

SA: Legolas is perfect. And you're making a mistake Hadean

ID: legolas was too flimsy looking for me. =:'(

EA: +L=golas is fangirl bait =:|-

ID: yeah why'd he get all the super cool fight sequences.

AA: legolas is hot af and you can both fight me, soz.

SA: oh so am I too flimsy too 😢

ID: sorry pris, you couldn't even beat me in throwing knives. =:P

ID: get gud.

AA: y, prni. he is the twig judging the rnest of the fornest.

SA: it's okay when you're vetter I'll properly destroy you.

ID: swoon. =:PPPPPP

SA: if that's all it takes why not gimli...

SA: oh-- true, sipara

ID: because gimli wasn't hot!

ID: duh.

EA: +L=golas do=sn't =v=n look lik= h= could kick down a door without br=aking his lifts.- EA: +Giv= m= a strong girl clad in armor with a broadsword any night of th= w==k inst=ad.-

LC: [ So do YYou pick faves based* on their looks, Hadean? ]

ID: a mix of looks and being able to kick ass.

SA: Hadean is a shallow mother fucker of course he does

LC: [ Well, figures. ]

ID: says the guy who rated me a 7/10!

SA: well you are a 7/10 this is a logical facr

EA: +7/10 is g=n=rous-

AA: come watch me flarnp, gausia, you'll totes swoon. >:P

ID: says the one who shaves stars in her hair.

AA: y, clearnly he is 8/10, stfu.

EA: +I would if you practic=d prop=r hyg=ni=, mayb= =:P-

SA: 😳

ID: i can only go up from 8/10.

LC: [ Well. ]

EA: +Do you hav= som=thing against stars? Stars ar= hott=r than you'll =v=r b=! By s=v=ral d=gr==s!-

AA: n, mud is my aesthetic, soz yrn 2lame to apprneciate.

LC: [ Stars are much hotter than anYYone in here, in fact. ]

EA: +^-

ID: i mean body-temperature wise maybe. but i'm pretty unnaturally hot that way too. =:P

LC: [ Well Hadean, a star still beats YYou nonetheless. ]

LC: [ SorrYY to disappoint YYou. ]

SA: Hadean is a 10/10 for being hell to share a bed with

SA: I am feeling shockingly lucid today it's wonderful

EA: +That r=minds m=, I do n==d to g=t Sipara som= stuff from Lush som=tim=. Mayb= th=n sh= can prop=rly b= brib=d into taking a bath.-

LC: [ ... Do I want to know the details Prisma? ]

ID: c'mere and i'll put my burning star hands on you.

ID: what's a lush.

SA: Someone who drinks and flirts

ID: ...sip is already kinda a lush isn't she.

SA: also don't touch me with your grubby star hands

AA: lmfao. Y E S.

ID: i meant ea pris. but i'll grab you too. =:P

SA: at least use some sanitizer first

AA: accornding to the tabloids. and you. app. >:P

SA: oh! The betrayal

ID: i'm about to get in to the bath, i'll be hella clean. =>:I

SA: 🛁

LC: [ YYou most definitelYY will be, Hadean. ]

ID: just gotta, y'know. juggle a phone and try not smacking my broke ass arm on the way in.

EA: +Oh, right. Uh. Lush is sort of lik=... a plac= wh=r= you go to g=t, uh... bath products that ar= usually d=void of ch=micals that can b= harmful to your skin, and stuff? It's sort of hoity toity highblood stuff, but, th= stuff sm=lls r=ally good...- EA: +Also bath bombs. Mak= your whol= bath tub look lik= spac= or lik=, a uh... tropical, fruity thing. I am not th= b=st at this.-

ID: ...sips i want to go to a lush. =:I is there a lush on the drive.

LC: [ Well YYou'd have an easier time not having YYour phone with YYou, especiallYY if onlYY one of YYour hands is free due to the other... being broken. ] LC: [ What did YYou do at the carnival that YYou managed to break it? ]

ID: fought a jade with a halberd. duh.

ID has sent itstotesgettingbetter.png! Boy is that a broke arm. But it's giving a thumbs up.

LC: [ Oh. Well. ] LC: [ At least YYou are doing well, nonetheless. ]

SA: i am going to slap you if you don't stop using that hand

AA: .. gausia, wtf you trnying to buy me lush forn? >:}

SA: she is making unsubtle advances obviously

SA: 😐

AA: and y, we can find one. but also pls slap him, prni. AA: wtf is it out of the cast forn??

ID: it got itchy.

SA: HADEAN

EA: +This was a jok= that larg=ly got out of my hands, onc=... I finally und=rstood that no on= knows what Lush is.- EA: +Shut up, SA.-

AA: .. let me cornrnect that. you can buy me lush, Gausie, but you still ain't allowed in the trnap. soz. >:P

ID: just give the free lush to me. duh.

SA: 🤣

SA: gausia

SA: we've met before

EA: +I don't want to b= in your trap! It would b= an actual, lit=ral trap!-

SA: 🤔

EA: +... Wait, what? hav= w=?-

SA: Prisma

SA: coffee.

SA: you spilt everything

EA: +... - EA: +No, totally don't know you. Not at all.-

AA: loool, what.

SA: 🤔🤔🤔

ID: well then.

EA: +Okay, list=n, if I kn=w =v=ryon= I accid=ntly tripp=d into, spill=d som=thing onto, or, you know, I would, uh.... w=ll....- EA: +... know a lot of p=opl=.-

SA: but we talked

ID: let's move on to a more interesting topic. also if i don't reply very often, you try typing and washing your ass-length hair at the same time.

SA: well some of us cut our hair off and keep our arms in our casts like we're supposed to

ID: casts are evil torture devices.

SA: I am dragging my hands down my face.

ID: that are coated in a substance to make your skin itch under it.

SA: that is literally not how that works

AA: dude, when yrn arnm heals crnooked, I'm gonna have to rnebrneak it to set it strn8.

LC: [ Well, casts are meant to be kept on to help YYour bones staYY in one place while the break heals, Hadean. ]

AA: and I'm gonna make fun of you the entirne fucking time.

LC: [ BYY taking it off, YYou are making it worse. ]

SA: how did we know it was set straight the first time. Did anybody get him an x ray

ID: it's fine. does it look crooked? no.

LC: [ Just as Sipara said. ]

SA: Your face is going to look crooked if I see you again 👀

SA: but not really

EA: +W= can always just cut your arm off and g=t you a prosth=tic! I'll =v=n giv= you a discount!-

SA: oh.

ID: fuck that, my arm is going to heal straight as an arrow and i'm gonna shove it in alll of your faces.

SA: if it doesn't though...

ID: also x ray pris do i look like i'm made of money.

LC: [ If YYou saYY so. Then we will see. ]

AA: we didn't need an xrnay, I do this all the time, prni. >:}

AA: and n, n cutting off anything, omfg.

LC: [ And if YYour arm heals crooked and needs to be well uh... get it to re-heal the right waYY, I could paYY for YYour X-RaYYs. ]

ID: gee lc, thanks. it won't happen because i'm sturdy af but a+ using your powers for good right there.

AA: lmao, n. he's my patient, i totally got it coverned. >:}

ID: i mean who here hasn't broken bones before.

LC: [ I am not sure if that's a good thing, Sipara. ]

AA: haha, excuse me?

ID: hey sips is an a+ mediculler.

ID: i mean with all the fights she gets in to, patching herself up is enough to make her like. an expert.

AA: n, hush, let him finish, i am fucking curnious what mapboy thinks he knows abt mediculling.

ID: http://i.imgur.com/1AvMrPv.mp4

AA: >:P

LC: [ Well I am not sure if YYou got a medical training but YYour approach seems to be usuallYY more drastic, from what I can... see. ] LC: [ Not just from before but YYour general demeanour. No offense. ]

EA: +I got popcorn, who wants som=?-

ID: yoooo hmu.

LC: [ SorrYY to tell YYou but I am not here to start a fight through the internet, just state an opinion. ]

ID: sorry bud, you're in a fight now.

AA: oh, shit, if yrn not arnguing overn my crnedentials, yrn just qqing bc of my rnough pernsonality, then who the fuck am i to take offense?

AA: herne's an opinion: go choke on an entirne bulge. AA: xoxo. >:}

LC: [ ... No thanks. ]

LC: [ I'd rather not. ]

AA: rnly? yeah, guess not, wtf was I thinking. AA: go choke on yrn own bulge, how's that, brnah.

LC: [ Won't do that either, I am not nastYY. ]

EA: +Com= back to th= hot=l th=n!!!! B=for= w= =at it all.-

ID: i just got in the bath. =:'(

ID: got suds alll through my hair.

AA: now put conditionern in it. >:}

ID: i didn't buy any. you got conditioner?

EA: +Call room s=rvic=.-

AA: i am not trnekking overn to brning you conditionern. >:1

ID: i'm trekking over to you then. =:P can i use your trap to finish this bath.

AA: .. lmao, uhh. AA: y, surne, why not.

EA: +... you b=tt=r hav= a tow=l or I am actually going to call th= polic=.-

ID: dnw, i will not give you mental scars. got this sweet fucking robe.

SA: I left to get a frozen chai and I come back to this.

ID: sorry pris, you guys tell me to use conditioner, i gotta get it somehow.

SA: lord.

SA: maybe you need a bath set

AA: dw, it's warnm outside.

ID: i like baths. i just don't get them very often!

ID: omw sips, don't worry.

AA: and can a bathset beat my awesome conversation, prni?? obvs not. not even if you put my pan in a jarn with speakerns and those little floaties.

SA: 😦 I want to have bathtub conversations

ID: dnw pris, i'll still keep chatting on here while i'm chatting with sips. =:P

SA: yes but it's not the same as hearing your voice 💚

AA: go rnun a bath and it can be T W I C E of em. >:}

SA: 😂

SA: I could take a bath but I have no reason to. I'm still clean

ID: take a bath just for the fun of baths, duh!

AA: do it to paint yrn nails!

SA: mmrm

SA: paint my nails...

ID: man, sometime i'll drag the both of you to a hotspring.

ID: clearly that's the best option for bath chats.

SA: fine. I will draw a bath.

AA: make them prnetty! and glue shit in 'em.

SA: why would I glue things to them I have to work.

AA: and omg. >:} yyyy. therne arne, like, hot canals nearn my hive, but they'rne full of fish.

AA: to make them prnetty, duh, keep up.

SA: I don't have any bath bombs

SA: hot canals.. full of fish

SA: that sounds alarming

ID: i've found some springs that are fish-free. take some time off both of you and we can go.

SA: some fish eat skin in hot springs and it's good for you

ID: sips meant fish as in seadwellers. but that. eww.

SA: I'm going to drop my phone In here I'm sure

SA: oh.

SA; I thought she meant. Actual fish.

EA: +With th= discussion about sushi last night, I don't know if sh='s =v=r s==n a fish.- EA: +As in, an actual fish.-

AA: meant both. >:} but lmao, grnoss!

AA: ofc I did, nerndass, I lived on the coast forn two sweeps. seen, like, all the fish everny fish. evern the tentacle fish.

SA: you mean octopi and squids

ID: quick warning, almost to the room, hide your poor little blueblood eyes soon gaus.

SA: or jelly fish

AA: n, i meant tentacle fish. don't you brning that highblood shit into my hive. >:P

ID: my hand is full of phone so knock knock sips, hope you got the good conditioner in there. =:P

SA: 😠 I'll bring my high blood shit where I want

SA: okay I feel the joys of feeling slowly leaving.

SA: now I'm just tired. The bathtub tricked me

AA: brnb, brnb, be rnight therne.

ID: ahahah sorry pris. baths can be hella calming.

SA: you did this to me

SA: do you have a favorite scent

ID: i like spicy scents.

ID: but i don't know if they make hair stuff spicy.

ID: and by spicy i mean, like... cinnamon.

EA: +So do=s that m=an I n==d to r=turn th= jal=p=no bath bomb?-

ID: wow do i look like a masochist?

ID: i mean. the shoulder wound and broken arm might have thrown you off.

ID: so. fair assumption i guess.

SA: what about cinnamon and apple? Cardimom?

ID: apples smell alright, but just. anything spicy i like sniffing.

SA: oh, I should show you my cologne sometime, perhaps you'd like that.

SA: oud has a very specific scent.

SA: it's like sandalwood and spice.

ID: huh. sounds nice. let me sniff you up. =:P

SA: I will let you smell my wrist, let's keep a cap on sniffing.

ID: i'll take it. should've known you'd wear cologne. mr. fancy pants. =:P

SA: of course I do. I have a collection.

SA: it's one of my favorite things to shop for.

ID: sorry, got busy washing my hair.

SA: good, now it will be silky and beautiful.

SA: and not. bloody and dirty.

ID: I got the blood and dirt out of it like yesterday. =:P

SA: But was it washed and conditioned?

ID: i shampooed it! just not conditioner.

ID: it's hard to wash with just the one arm.

SA: If you keep complaining about it someone may offer to help you and I don't believe you want that.

SA: the more i listen the more i enjoy having short hair.

SA: I drink your tears.

ID: this is just some nice venting, not looking for sympathy/help! =:P

ID: yeah but my hair is cool as fuck.

ID: when i'm not dealing with a broken arm.

SA: You don't even deal with it when your arm isn't broken, though. It is pinned in a braid all the same.

SA: i am blowing disappointed bubbles into my bathwater i want you to know this.

ID: i brush it sometimes!

AA: n, no helping allowed, it'll be hilarnious when it frnizzes.

ID: ...does conditioner make it frizz.

ID: fucking rude sips. i wasn't told about this.

ID: now you gotta help me brush it so it doesn't.

AA: n, conditione AA: totally does make it frnizz, y.

SA: only if you use fluffing conditioner

AA: sinistern fucking shit rnight therne. >:}

ID: am i going to be fluffy now. =:I

SA: hotel conditioner is too cheap. I hope.

SA: I don't know. We'll have to find out who is right

AA: not if we brnush it, duh.

ID: hope you have a brush.

SA: you just said you wouldn't --

ID: where's the hairdryer.

ID: ...also should have brought clothes with me.

ID: i didn't think this through.

AA: i wasn't, but then he said i gotta, so w/e, w/e AA: do i look like i have a hairndrniern, dude? and

AA: lmfao omggg.

AA: p surne gausia is nevern gonna let you out of the trnap now, so, like, i hope you can eat soap. >:}

ID: hotels have hairdryers. i'll let myself out if i fucking have to. =:I the robe covers like. all of me.

SA: 😂

ID: unless the sight of my head, neck, and some calf are enough to kill her.

SA: possibly

ID: rip gausia then.

SA: I have to cease bathtub otherwise I will fall asleep here and I'd like to sleep in my bed

SA: see you later, Hadean, Sipara. Gausia.

ID: later pris.

AA: l8rn, dude.

ID: if gausia is gonna be a wriggler, come in here. =>:I

AA: see, if you wernen't a candle monstern, we'd have an easy solution. >:{ AA: lucky forn you, i am a fucking E N G I N E E RN.

ID: wtf is a candle monster.

AA: ... y'know, like, the wax museum things. except they'rne rnly fucking tall, and smothern ppl. also, coverned in wax. AA: get w yrn cinema, duh.

ID: i told you i don't watch movies. and why am i a candle monster.

AA: neway. Ï have made you the best fucking gift, and it's called S H E E T S. wrnap it like a tunic! voilaaa. >:}

AA: starnt watching them. be less lame!

ID: whatever, tunic sheets it is. and my phone speakers don't work and my husktop only works like. every now and then.

AA: and bc yrn also tall and drnippy. jfc, hads, keep up.

AA: prnobs bc you keep it all in a tent, dude. >:} js.

AA: also btw bettern be decent bc i am coming in in, like, five.

ID: my tent rocks and i'm decent af.