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@ostentatixus

#[i have one blog half up and running but if you'd like to follow me on my journey it's goin over there jfdksf]#[ooc]

[i realized i never formally announced anything, but sorry for the absence! i’m in between hobbies and at the moment and this blog isn’t one of them. but i’ll be back for sure!

#[ooc]

starlight-sung‌:

Eno whines softly, ears drooping. He doesn’t want to leave, though. He takes Sung’s hand again. Feel safe, he mouths.

Sung lets out a soft sigh, and gently squeezes his hand. “Unfortunately, we don’t know if you are safe here,” he says. “I’ll visit later on, alright? But you need to go back.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#starlight-sung

starlight-sung‌:

Eno pauses, thinking, and then shrugs. He’s not sure if it’s safe or not, but whatever. He takes Sung’s hand and smiles, swinging their arms between them.

Sung furrows his brow, and after a moment, pulls his hands away. “You need to go home,” he says. “I’ve got shit to do, and I really don’t want to go in over my head with this stuff. You should stick around the people who know what’s going on.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#starlight-sung

bajillianshitposts‌:

Bajillian huffs and follows him again. “What if you reach your limit, and it fucks you up??” She realizes she’s raising her voice, and chooses to go with a more gentle tone.

“You’re already barely eating and not making sense, and I’m worried about you. I don’t see how this is beneficial.”

“Listen, Jilli, my body knows how to take care of itself,” Sung replies, “The worst that will happen is I pass out and it gets the rest it needs. No harm done. Especially since I’m wearing my helmet, I'm much less likely to get a concussion when I hit the concrete.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#bajillianshitposts

starlight-sung‌:

Eno shakes his head. He pokes at Sung’s core, mouthing the word again as he does it. Not healthy.

It’s only then that Sung’s brain processes who he’s looking at, and he shakes his head. “Wait, shouldn’t you be back home, anyway?” he asks. “I thought your other half was trying to get you back together. I don’t know what sort of fuckshit could go down if you’re existing in different dimensions.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#starlight-sung

starlight-sung‌:

It’s the first time Eno’s dimension hopped since the split, and he’s just been watching Sung talk, his head spinning.

At the end of it he hops off the counter and steps up to Sung, fingertips brushing the dark circles under his eyes. Tired, he mouths.

Sung stops in his tracks, tilting his head in confusion. “I never said I was tired,” he says. “But if you’re tired, you should rest. Is that why you’re here? I suppose me talking at you isn’t going to help. Why are you hopping dimensions if you need rest?”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#starlight-sung

bajillianshitposts‌:

Bajillian follows Sung and tries to get him to sit down, but he’s moving too much, so she just watches with a worried look on her face. Ready to catch him if needed.

“That’s not a good reason to find out,” she reasons. “That’s like if I said… if I’ve never downed a beaker of pure acid before, how can we know if it’s bad for me?”

“Well, because we know that your nondescript ‘pure acid’ would be highly corrosive and would most definitely destroy your insides,” Sung says, “Science tells us that. People have tried it before, and statistically, it hasn’t gone well.”

He turns on his heel and goes right back to pacing.

“Sleep, on the other hand, is not something I have studied at length. Not in my own species, anyway. I don’t know what my limits are, and I think it would benefit me greatly to find out.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#bajillianshitposts

Sung has been pacing the room, monologuing for quite some time now. He hasn’t left his lab in a little over a week, so this has been his main form of exercise lately. He’s not making a whole lot of sense, and has kind of lost track of the question they asked him initially, so he finally stops and turns to face them.

“Look. All I’m saying is, if I’ve never stayed up for more than 168 hours straight before, how can we know if it’s bad for me?”

#[open starter]#[hello let's see if i can keep this up gfhgjf #[Verse 1: Standard]

lukas-musings

I’ve 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 to run There is 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 to be done

On the people who are

𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎.

#[oof ouch ow #[musings]

bajillianshitposts‌:

Bajillian sniffled and moved her hand, keeping it out of her sight. She wasn’t sure if she was bleeding, but she didn’t want to know. “I was tired, and that takes so much energy,” she whined.

At his second question, she shook her head with a little pout. “My head hurts, n’my vision’s blurry.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Sung said, keeping his voice soft. “Are you hurt anywhere else, do you think? Or just your head?”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#bajillianshitposts

starlight-sung‌:

Sung swallows, trying not to breathe as he stares down at him. The core seems to…calm down a little at Sung’s touch almost, the flashing slowing down a little. He doesn’t really want to dwell on what that means, other than it being helpful.

Sung hums, curious, and presses further. “Is there... something specific I should be looking for?” he asks. “Like, am I going to feel something tangible? It looks like I’m doing something, but I’m not sure what.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#starlight-sung

lordtupperware‌:

It happened to be on a late night when Porter got the text. It was simple, vague, and very distressing- and coming from Adam, the more reserved of his friends, it only made his mind race. He left for Adam’s place as fast as he could, jumping behind the wheel and waiting until he arrived to finally slow to an acceptable speed, stop the car, and get to the front door.

He knocks a few times, loud and clear. “Adam? Adam, it’s Porter.”

Adam’s already at the door, so he opens it within moments of the knock. He looks... distraught, exhausted, trembling with teary eyes.

“Rufus ran away,” he says, his voice shaky. “I had let him out, a-and... and he went and chased after a cat or something, and I spent over an hour walking around and calling for him, b-but... but I can’t find him. My parents are out of town and I don’t know what to do.”

#[Verse 6: Human]#lordtupperware

lordtupperware‌:

“I’m ready,” he answers. “I trust you, Sung. It’s just gonna hit the underside of my jaw at worst, it’ll be okay…”

“Alright, if you’re sure...”

Sung steadies his hold on Phobos’s helmet, and counts down from three before he firmly tugs it forward.

#[Verse 1: Standard]#lordtupperware

lordtupperware‌:

“I’m gonna be real, I just want the damn thing off’a me, Doc. I don’t care how you go about it, but at this point I’m ready to just pull it off and face whatever happens.”

Sung takes a deep breath, eyeing Phobos’s neck. Why did it have to be there, of all places? He glances around the room, taking note of anything he could use to help the situation if he somehow hits a major artery or something and things go south.

“Okay, I mean... if you want me to just go full force and yank it off, I can,” he says, holding the sides of the helmet again. “I just... don’t wanna hurt you, man.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#lordtupperware #[i'm off for tonight but the Poor Boy

bajillianshitposts‌:

Bajillian was sitting on the floor, surrounded by some of her tools and various metal scraps for future projects. She was holding her head and blinked a few times to try to focus her vision - her glitches looked a bit unclear as well.

“I w-was trying to… to get something on the shelf,” she mumbled. Her speech was a bit slurred and shaky, probably because she was crying a little. “I stepped on… on one of the levels to try to get something n’everything fell on me.”

Sung’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and he was quick to crouch by her side. “Sweetie, why didn’t you just float it down for yourself?” he asked, hands raising to hold the sides of her head. “Are you okay?”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#bajillianshitposts

lordtupperware‌:

Phobos tries not to squirm, or make any sudden movements. He focuses on his breathing, listening to the metal be cut away, hoping it can be easily removed; but he’s not sure if it’ll be that easy of a task in the end. This helmet has always been a little tight on him, and he’d spoken offhandedly about needing a larger one.

Sung spends a good few minutes sawing away, a look of concentration on his face, but he barely makes a dent. Eventually, he just lets out a frustrated huff and sets the scalpel aside.

“Okay, so... that’s not gonna do it.” He crosses his arms, leaning back a bit, maybe hoping to get a different perspective. “Do you think I could just try to pull that chunk of metal out? At least, if I can control where it goes, I could minimize the... the scratching.”

#[Verse 1: Standard]#lordtupperware

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