She shakes her head, “No, just… enhanced to become… how you say, killing machine.”
She actually thinks about it for a moment before nodding “That would be nice, I’d be able to do more for you that way.”
“Then I guess Tony is allowed to come along, but he better not do anything stupid.” He sighs, yawning with her.
"Well, you wear it well." *fun fact, Byren is based off of west-coasters*
"I'll get them built, what kind of wood would you like?"
"I'll make sure that he doesn't, alright?" she gets comfier, eyes shut tight.
*Hmm, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed.*
“Thank you, you look well yourself, handsome.” She pours herself another glass.
She thinks about it before going to her lantern, “Maybe some soft wood?”
He rubs the side of their face “Go to sleep, dear, and I’ll be here for you, whether awake or in your dreams.”
"Oh, well thank you."
"Soft wood, of course. want any carpet or anything on them? a specific stain color?" He's already begun to draw out plans
"Mmm.. okay.." she holds onto him gently and closes her eyes
“It is truth, no thanks required.” She walks over to a small radio, turning it on.
“Carpeting would be nice, though not necessary, and no need for any particular color, thank you, dear.” She runs some dust through the lantern, filling the air with a warm, soothing color and smell.
He gets comfy himself, it’s too late for him to escape, so he lies there as they sleep.
*Good afternoon, my lovely entities of paradoxical origin!*
Omori has been huddled up in her room of the orphanage since her visit to the Observatory, only ever leaving to catch some food from the forest and hastily return right after. Occasional panicked-sounding mutterings can be heard from the room, but it's hard to hear what she's saying.
The Architect is continuing her work on the Fair, keeping a few eyes out for anyone she recognizes as she does.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Hmm, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed.*
“Thank you, you look well yourself, handsome.” She pours herself another glass.
She thinks about it before going to her lantern, “Maybe some soft wood?”
He rubs the side of their face “Go to sleep, dear, and I’ll be here for you, whether awake or in your dreams.”
“It is truth, no thanks required.” She walks over to a small radio, turning it on.
“Carpeting would be nice, though not necessary, and no need for any particular color, thank you, dear.” She runs some dust through the lantern, filling the air with a warm, soothing color and smell.
He gets comfy himself, it’s too late for him to escape, so he lies there as they sleep.
*Cut for Salem. Good place to end?*
“Natasha, named after my grandmother, strong woman.” She sits back down, bobbing her head to the music.
She walks over, climbing into a chair and beginning to eat her own breakfast, looking up to them.
“I already do, at least in terms of not being a pop culture amalgamation.”
Rio drops all the carcasses he was carrying and begins attempting to wake up Mac.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Moonshine is out of the sewers, going for a walk after stealing from someone, humming.
“Thank you, you must be strong man, strong god.”
She scoots her chair next to them, “Dear… I want to be able to grow, maybe even temporarily, for you.”
She looks over to them, smiling widely and waving with her fingers as she walks over “River!”
She raises her own glass “To long summer days then.” She drowns her glass.
She shakes her head, “Not insecure… just want to be bigger, for you.”
*Jobah?*
“Ah, ya were lookin’ fer me? Liked what we were doin’ last time?” She teases, smiling brightly at them.
She tilts her head, “Would you like me to refill that for you, Byren?”
She seems to process that after a moment, “If you don’t mind me as I am… I guess.”
*Eh, it’s all good then, if he’s busy then he’s busy, that’s the way things are.*
*Cut for Salem.*
She puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head, “Ya got a gift fer me? Go ahead with it then, I’d love anythin’ yer willin’ ta give.”
She pours them, beginning to drink scotch directly from her bottle.
She reaches up and helps them wipe it away, licking up the food off of her fingers “I… thank you Dew, that means a lot.”
*Good afternoon, my lovely entities of paradoxical origin!*
Omori has been huddled up in her room of the orphanage since her visit to the Observatory, only ever leaving to catch some food from the forest and hastily return right after. Occasional panicked-sounding mutterings can be heard from the room, but it's hard to hear what she's saying.
The Architect is continuing her work on the Fair, keeping a few eyes out for anyone she recognizes as she does.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)