"Who am I?" A shocked expression is painted on his face, "Oh goodness. Oh gracious me. That's a lot to ask of anyone. Let's see if I can figure it out." He paces around in a small circle with one hand behind the back and the other on his chin. Puffball mushrooms begin to sprout behind each footstep and his large shoes trod on the fungus as he circles causing a thick cloud of spores to envelope him from the knees down. "Let's see... I'm me, but I suppose that doesn't cut it. I'm a blossom! Yes, that's true but that's not the full picture. I'm not October, nor June, nor January. Hmm. I'm not man, for man is mortal, but I perish fairly frequently. I never die, but I perish. Hm." He stops pacing and turns to you, "What month is it again?" As he stands still the spores settle and you notice a large rainbow trout lying dead in the center of the puffball circle.
*I'm assuming the month is the same as the real world, so April.*
The screen flashes again, "April." The screen seems uniquely designed for any type of word that could be said, speaking every language and yet lacking words, for a moment the screen changes to become an eyeball, bloodshot and terrified, a crackling and garbled voice screaming out in pain, and just as sudden as it started it disappears, and the mime's smile returns "A. Blossom?"
"April! Yes! That's it! That's me! They call me Poisson D'avril! The April Fish! The April Fool! That is who I am." The April Fish blinks in surprise at the screaming eyeball. He squats down and begins tracing a finger in the grass. Tiny flowers blossom spelling out the words 'Clap once for help. Clap twice for lemonade. Clap thrice for both.' He continues to talk though as if he wasn't writing anything. "Oh yes, a blossom, and bud, a bloom, a sprout, a spring flower."
"Who am I?" A shocked expression is painted on his face, "Oh goodness. Oh gracious me. That's a lot to ask of anyone. Let's see if I can figure it out." He paces around in a small circle with one hand behind the back and the other on his chin. Puffball mushrooms begin to sprout behind each footstep and his large shoes trod on the fungus as he circles causing a thick cloud of spores to envelope him from the knees down. "Let's see... I'm me, but I suppose that doesn't cut it. I'm a blossom! Yes, that's true but that's not the full picture. I'm not October, nor June, nor January. Hmm. I'm not man, for man is mortal, but I perish fairly frequently. I never die, but I perish. Hm." He stops pacing and turns to you, "What month is it again?" As he stands still the spores settle and you notice a large rainbow trout lying dead in the center of the puffball circle.
*I'm assuming the month is the same as the real world, so April.*
The screen flashes again, "April." The screen seems uniquely designed for any type of word that could be said, speaking every language and yet lacking words, for a moment the screen changes to become an eyeball, bloodshot and terrified, a crackling and garbled voice screaming out in pain, and just as sudden as it started it disappears, and the mime's smile returns "A. Blossom?"
"April! Yes! That's it! That's me! They call me Poisson D'avril! The April Fish! The April Fool! That is who I am." The April Fish blinks in surprise at the screaming eyeball. He squats down and begins tracing a finger in the grass. Tiny flowers blossom spelling out the words 'Clap once for help. Clap twice for lemonade. Clap thrice for both.' He continues to talk though as if he wasn't writing anything. "Oh yes, a blossom, and bud, a bloom, a sprout, a spring flower."
His hands seemingly try to come together, but for some reason they won't, he can't clap, but if he could, he would've thrice by his close his hands come to each other before he gives up. Whatever presence is keeping whoever is in there trapped is also keeping them fro getting any help. They make a gesture of their own, their finger lighting like a candle with a smile.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"April! Yes! That's it! That's me! They call me Poisson D'avril! The April Fish! The April Fool! That is who I am." The April Fish blinks in surprise at the screaming eyeball. He squats down and begins tracing a finger in the grass. Tiny flowers blossom spelling out the words 'Clap once for help. Clap twice for lemonade. Clap thrice for both.' He continues to talk though as if he wasn't writing anything. "Oh yes, a blossom, and bud, a bloom, a sprout, a spring flower."
His hands seemingly try to come together, but for some reason they won't, he can't clap, but if he could, he would've thrice by his close his hands come to each other before he gives up. Whatever presence is keeping whoever is in there trapped is also keeping them fro getting any help. They make a gesture of their own, their finger lighting like a candle with a smile.
With a wave of his hand and a shower of flower petals he conjures a full pitcher of lemonade. "That is a good trick, my friend. That must have many uses. Would you like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?" He conjures a glass full of ice and begins to pour it. As he does so, you feel a few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the sky. "Do you have a name, Mr. Mime Machine?" Many colored flowers begin to bloom. They sprout in a wide circle around the two of us. "Who are you?"
With a wave of his hand and a shower of flower petals he conjures a full pitcher of lemonade. "That is a good trick, my friend. That must have many uses. Would you like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?" He conjures a glass full of ice and begins to pour it. As he does so, you feel a few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the sky. "Do you have a name, Mr. Mime Machine?" Many colored flowers begin to bloom. They sprout in a wide circle around the two of us. "Who are you?"
They tilt their head, more sparks flying out as metal scrapes against metal, before the screen changes, flashing 'The professor' for a moment before changing to 'The mime' In friendly bright letters, contrasting whatever this being truly feels, being trapped in a body it cannot control. He takes his cup of lemonade once it's finished, dipping a finger into the cup and draining it until it's empty.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
With a wave of his hand and a shower of flower petals he conjures a full pitcher of lemonade. "That is a good trick, my friend. That must have many uses. Would you like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?" He conjures a glass full of ice and begins to pour it. As he does so, you feel a few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the sky. "Do you have a name, Mr. Mime Machine?" Many colored flowers begin to bloom. They sprout in a wide circle around the two of us. "Who are you?"
They tilt their head, more sparks flying out as metal scrapes against metal, before the screen changes, flashing 'The professor' for a moment before changing to 'The mime' In friendly bright letters, contrasting whatever this being truly feels, being trapped in a body it cannot control. He takes his cup of lemonade once it's finished, dipping a finger into the cup and draining it until it's empty.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Mime. Now, if you don't mind..." He reaches out and presses his fingers against your metal chest. Lush leaves and thin, curling vines spring out from where he touches. Great bulbous buds blossom and bloom and you feel their roots reach deep inside of you, granting voice to any quiet thoughts deep inside of you. Giving a petaled mouth to the face behind the mime's paint. "I'd like to hear what you really have to say."
*Whoever is inside this machine can speak through the flower buds until they are torn off of you.*
With a wave of his hand and a shower of flower petals he conjures a full pitcher of lemonade. "That is a good trick, my friend. That must have many uses. Would you like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?" He conjures a glass full of ice and begins to pour it. As he does so, you feel a few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the sky. "Do you have a name, Mr. Mime Machine?" Many colored flowers begin to bloom. They sprout in a wide circle around the two of us. "Who are you?"
They tilt their head, more sparks flying out as metal scrapes against metal, before the screen changes, flashing 'The professor' for a moment before changing to 'The mime' In friendly bright letters, contrasting whatever this being truly feels, being trapped in a body it cannot control. He takes his cup of lemonade once it's finished, dipping a finger into the cup and draining it until it's empty.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Mime. Now, if you don't mind..." He reaches out and presses his fingers against your metal chest. Lush leaves and thin, curling vines spring out from where he touches. Great bulbous buds blossom and bloom and you feel their roots reach deep inside of you, granting voice to any quiet thoughts deep inside of you. Giving a petaled mouth to the face behind the mime's paint. "I'd like to hear what you really have to say."
*Whoever is inside this machine can speak through the flower buds until they are torn off of you.*
He hears a breathy voice, once again, still crackling and garbled like before, but still just that little bit clearer as the eyeball returns to the screen, able to take the body back into their control with the assistance from the April Fish, "I am the professor." His head twitches controllably, as if his control is loose and weakly held, "MY BODY WAS STOLEN FROM ME! I AM T-TRAPPED IN THIS V-VESSEL!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*what, a day?*
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*Maybe too, and as one of my dearest friends, that's too long.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"April! Yes! That's it! That's me! They call me Poisson D'avril! The April Fish! The April Fool! That is who I am." The April Fish blinks in surprise at the screaming eyeball. He squats down and begins tracing a finger in the grass. Tiny flowers blossom spelling out the words 'Clap once for help. Clap twice for lemonade. Clap thrice for both.' He continues to talk though as if he wasn't writing anything. "Oh yes, a blossom, and bud, a bloom, a sprout, a spring flower."
His hands seemingly try to come together, but for some reason they won't, he can't clap, but if he could, he would've thrice by his close his hands come to each other before he gives up. Whatever presence is keeping whoever is in there trapped is also keeping them fro getting any help. They make a gesture of their own, their finger lighting like a candle with a smile.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*good point.*
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*Anyway, how're you doing, bud?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*i’m pretty good. You?*
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*Good enough, got a lil bit of inspiration, not much but some.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*that’s always great to hear :)*
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
With a wave of his hand and a shower of flower petals he conjures a full pitcher of lemonade. "That is a good trick, my friend. That must have many uses. Would you like a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade?" He conjures a glass full of ice and begins to pour it. As he does so, you feel a few raindrops begin to sprinkle down from the sky. "Do you have a name, Mr. Mime Machine?" Many colored flowers begin to bloom. They sprout in a wide circle around the two of us. "Who are you?"
*Wanna rp or something at some point?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
They tilt their head, more sparks flying out as metal scrapes against metal, before the screen changes, flashing 'The professor' for a moment before changing to 'The mime' In friendly bright letters, contrasting whatever this being truly feels, being trapped in a body it cannot control. He takes his cup of lemonade once it's finished, dipping a finger into the cup and draining it until it's empty.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
He nods quietly.
"Thats good."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Does it matter?"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She bows her head before walking out.
"He's been sleeping since a little after you left... I don't know why."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Leos hands tremble slightly as he tries to pull himself together.
"I'll check up on him after we eat."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She continues to rub his back, comforting him, "It's okay, I'm here for you, dear."
She nods, waiting for the food to arrive before digging in.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Mime. Now, if you don't mind..." He reaches out and presses his fingers against your metal chest. Lush leaves and thin, curling vines spring out from where he touches. Great bulbous buds blossom and bloom and you feel their roots reach deep inside of you, granting voice to any quiet thoughts deep inside of you. Giving a petaled mouth to the face behind the mime's paint. "I'd like to hear what you really have to say."
*Whoever is inside this machine can speak through the flower buds until they are torn off of you.*
"I...i need to focus on working on something..." he mutters.
He eats slowly, keeping an eye out for anyone trying to hurt them.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He hears a breathy voice, once again, still crackling and garbled like before, but still just that little bit clearer as the eyeball returns to the screen, able to take the body back into their control with the assistance from the April Fish, "I am the professor." His head twitches controllably, as if his control is loose and weakly held, "MY BODY WAS STOLEN FROM ME! I AM T-TRAPPED IN THIS V-VESSEL!"
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)