𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴 𝑩𝑶𝒀

SEBASTIAN VORA ❝   there is stability in self destruction, in prolonging sadness as a means of escaping abstractions like happiness. rock bottom is a surprisingly comfortable place to lay your head. looking up from the depths of another low often seems a lot safer than wondering when you'll fall again. falling feels awful.

[sebastianvora]

QUICK LINKS ❪ BIOGRAPHY CONNECTIONS PINTEREST ❫

FULL NAME: Sebastian Vora.

NICKNAME(S): Seb, Sebby.

AGE & DOB: 30. April 19th, 1994 @ 11:59pm.

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Transgender man. He/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Proudly unlabeled.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single, although legally married to CJ Welford.

OCCUPATION: Street fighter. Tattoo Apprentice @ Skinfinity Tattoos.

HOMETOWN: Blue Harbor, Illinois - Deer Park.

PREVIOUSLY LIVED: Blue Harbor, Illinois - Weaver Ridge.

TIME IN BLUE HARBOR: His entire life.

NEIGHBORHOOD: Cardinal Hill.

FACECLAIM: Avan Jogia.

TLDR ❪ TRIGGERS: DIVORCE DEATH ABUSE MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE ❫ Sebastian was born in a quaint home in Deer Park to two people who should have never married in the first place. Divorced shortly after he was born, he lived most of his young life with his mother and older brother, not having officially met his father until he was around three years old. When he was ten, his mother passed away from terminal illness and Sebastian and his brother were thrust into the care of his father in Weaver Ridge full time. His father was negligent, abusive and a downright horrible man; Sebastian had been packing to leave and cut contact by his eighteenth birthday, and that was what he did. He moved into an apartment in Cardinal Hill with his brother, where he stayed for the next eleven years — simply floating by life. When he was 29, however, his brother silently urged Sebastian to find an apartment of his own. What he found instead was an underground fight club ad on Craigslist and got absorbed into the lifestyle quite heavily. Later on, when he decided to actually look for apartments, he found a roommate in CJ Welford. They were two peas in a pod, birds of a feather, and that much was apparent by how much time they spent together. It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary when they came back from a weekend trip to Vegas legally married, though everyone around them has been certainly giving their opinion on the matter ever since. As his 'socially acceptable' job, he puts minimal effort in an apprenticeship position at Skinfinity Tattoos, but he still tends to cause chaos wherever he goes.

[thecjonowelford]

CJ didn’t realize how nervous he was until Seb assured him that he could totally fight a witch off for them, and was too preoccupied with the idea of his room-spouse getting into a brawl with one than to once again defend Bigfoot and the cryptid’s reputation (he was just a tall furry guy — no reason to fight him!). “Nah, you’re trippin’ bro, Iunno if I could like skate past a witch. I’ve seen one on a board before, they’re fuckin’...like, skilled.” Or was it a broom? That was what witches rode, right?

It was 2024. Witches could have any modes of transport they wanted. 

“Hmm, maybe he likes it? Like, if someone mixed up my name and called my JC than CJ, I wouldn’t care. Jesus had dope hair, right?” But as he was speaking, he was following Sebastian’s lead. He didn’t think there wouldn’t be anything he wouldn’t do, as long as his husband asked. “Oh, since we’re not getting any grocery shopping done, can we get food at the diner? I could fuck up like…seven burgers right now.” One for each day of the week, if he was thinking logically. 

(But he wasn’t. CJ never had).

[sebastianvora]

Okay, well — like most generally innocuous activities in life, maybe Sebastian’s too high for this. Maybe popping a few edibles before what was supposed to be a quick and easy grocery trip was a bad idea, because now he can only focus on the hypothetical scenario of an angry witch on a skateboard trying to trap all the patrons. Which then, of course, leads his brain into thinking about CJ having to engage in some sort of skate-battle to save them, and then he thinks about the logistics ... like if they can even fit on one skateboard together in order to skate by the door, if the witch even knows how to do any tricks, and he’s kind of lost the real point of the conversation by the time he’s done thinking about it.

“You’re more skilled though, Ceej!” he remarks sincerely, the edge of his lips tipping upwards into a goofy smile. “I know that in, like, my heart or whatever — never seen a witch skate, don’t need to.”

He’s about to comment on the whole Satan and Jesus thing, about to say that CJ’s a whole lot nicer than the Devil himself — and y’know, on that basis, maybe his point still stands — when his roommate’s easily distractible mind leads them to burgers. And he, obviously, has no choice but to agree. Burgers sound fucking dope. “Oh, yeah — please, dude. Diner burgers are so much yummier than this gel shit, I bet. Maybe we can just like, order extra and take some home with us? I dunno why more people just don’t do that, grocery shopping fuckin’ blows.”

[angelramirez]

angel hadn't been present at cj's birthday party ( they weren't really close and angel worked whenever someone needed him to ) but he'd heard the fallout after it all happened. miles had suffered from it as well as all the other employees. but he suspected that cj, well off as he was, had somehow pulled some strings to get the place back into shape. now that it all was fixed though he felt like the measures were a bit extreme. hearing seb's completely unhinged version of reality made him pause though. "sweetheart, i'm sorry, but no one believed that moustache was real. it looks like you shaved your pubes and put it on your upper lip. and that is me being kind." before seb could even think of putting it back on he snatched it from his hands and stuffed it in his own pocket. "no, i can tell what you're thinking and i can't let you do this. not for your sake, but for everyone around you." for a moment angel considered saying bye and going on with his day. however, he had hours before he had to go to work and he had a feeling that leaving seb unattended would be the worse choice in this situation. angel paused, mulling over sebastian's words for a few seconds before throwing a quick look over his shoulder. "i could take an octopus."

[sebastianvora]

“Well, clearly that guy fuckin’ bought it,” Sebastian comments nonchalantly, oblivious to the fact that they didn’t, indeed, buy anything — the only reason why he’s even standing over the threshold is all thanks to Angel, who looks awfully regretful about helping him out in the first place. The mustache might as well had not been there. Ready to shove it into his own pocket, though, he sputters in surprise as the other beats him to it. And, like, what the fuck does that mean? Not for his sake, but everyone around him? He huffs, shaking his head. “Oh, yeah? What if I was thinkin’ of like, stickin’ it on that machine over there?” He points lazily to his side at a Donkey Kong themed arcade game. “You’ll never know my next move, man. He’d also look dope as hell with a mustache.”

Whatever, he thinks. He’ll just buy a new one next time. Blissful ignorance leads him to believe that there will even be a next time, of course.

He watches as Angel tosses over his suggestion in his mind, outwardly pleased with himself as he decides to give in. A mischievous grin overtakes his features and he stalks over to the octopi-holding claw machine in question before he inspects it for no more than a moment, attempting to work out his plan of attack. He figures that reaching in will probably be fine — he’s got long limbs anyway, and the machine itself is quite small — so he drops to his knees, sticking his entire arm in through the front. His hand hovers over the closest one as he asks, “This one cool?”

[sheaymin]

@/avanjogia tiktok  / do not repost or remove caption.

[huntervtheworld]

Hunter's conversation with Jeanie could've gone better. It could've gone better if she'd tried to scratch out his eyes, or... or ignored him entirely. But once again, Hunter was left with the threads of their old life, the ones that he tore to shreds himself, night after night. Lie after lie. He deserved it, sure, but that didn't mean it stung any less.

He was three cigarettes deep in his misery, wallowing around in the backyard. Hunter had busied himself for the last half-hour kicking the same stone around in circles, like a sad game of soccer. Hunter knew Sebastian was in good hands with CJ, but he also knew that the night was too young for an Irish exit. Sebastian would certainly know, and he would certainly hear about it every hour for a couple of weeks.

Halfway through an elaborate lie to get him out of this party, the last person Hunter expected to walk out the back door was his brother. "Hey," he said, eyes drifting over to the larger-than-life skeleton in Sebastian's arms. "Uh... sure," Hunter agreed. He'd learned long ago it was better to go along to get along. "Who's your friend?" A beat passed, Hunter turning over the truth of what had happened on his tongue. He didn't really talk to Sebastian about it, but at the same time, Seb was probably the only person alive who would really get where Hunter was coming from. Still, he settled on, "Where the fuck did you get it?"

[sebastianvora]

Hey. Well, isn’t that just depressing as fuck. Sebastian finally takes a moment — and it’s quick, but a moment nonetheless — to rake his eyes over his brother’s frame. He steps away from Clarence, even, who hangs awkwardly at his side and really takes him in. All two of him, standing there, looking like the lamest paper hole puncher he’s ever seen. Or four of him. Jesus, fuck, he’s too inebriated for this. The intoxicating mixture of pills and alcohol in his system ensure that there’s not much he can do, aside from recognize that he sounds sad as hell, which only comes from the decades on this Earth he’s spent glued to his brother’s side.

It’s probably better off this way, though, considering he’s just come from ripping the skeleton off the railing inside with Jeanie, who — well, is the reason for Hunter’s current state, if Sebastian could screw his head on straight and piece together the puzzle for once. God forbid he comments on the fact that both of them look awfully miserable and makes matters worse. That’d be horrific.

Little blessings from the Universe that he can’t.

“His name’s Clarence,” he answers, “He was just, like, chillin’ by the stairs. I mean, he was fuckin’ — tied to it, like he was in jail! I had to break him free. Isn’t he dope as hell? Y’know, when I was first ripping him down, I totally thought he was real for a sec.” There isn’t an end to his incessant rambling as he continues, “I wanna put him, like ... above my bed or some shit. I think that would be sick. But I don’t wanna leave yet, and I bet someone else is gonna try to steal him before I do, so — over the fence. Here, grab his legs!”

[avnj0gia]

[jeanieinabxttle]

➥ location: phantom manor

➥ event: the haunted rave, 2024

➥ status: closed starter for @sebastianvora

The silver body paint is difficult to miss, especially beneath the strobes. Sinking back into the mass of pulsating dancers and avoiding entirely Seb crosses her mind for the most fleeting of instances, thoughts contaminated with the worry that he'll see through her and know somehow, turning things back in time to those awful few months after she and Hunter first split. Then the moment of cowardice is gone, replaced with a forceful reminder that Seb was her friend first, before she had anything to do with his brother, and damn it all if Hunter was going to take anything else from her.

Pasting on the most convincing smile she could—and it really was almost convincing, aided by the shots she'd begged Shambles to share with her—and half danced, half wobbled towards him.

“I've got a really great idea!” She yelled into his ear, voice fighting against the music. A finger pointed to the collection of looming Halloween decorations in the corner of the room. “Don't you think those look like they need a better home?”

[sebastianvora]

Sebastian’s not terribly observant — never has been, never will be. Such a statement’s especially true in settings like this where he’s inebriated out of his mind and, truthfully, can’t give a fuck about anything thanks to the wonderful time he’s having. If something’s going on with anyone around him, well, he’ll be the last to notice. Which works tremendously in Jeanie’s favor as she stumbles over to him, the emotional distress practically oozing off of her in ways he’s incapable of recognizing, and all he can do is offer an wonky, lopsided smile in greeting.

His eyes track the path of her finger and land on the Halloween decorations in the corner — a fake, animatronic werewolf and patch of jack-o’-lantern pumpkins — and he nods.

“Yooooo, what the fuck! I didn’t even notice that shit there!” he replies, which is true — he’s been far too preoccupied with dancing to really notice any of the décor — but now that Jeanie’s brought it to his attention, he can’t help but do a little scan around the room. His attention lands on a gigantic, probably ten-foot-tall skeleton attached to the stairwell railing, ominously looming over the crowd. An idea pops into his head almost instantaneously and he lights up, visibly excited. “Wait, wait, wait — no, Jean, look at that fucker!” he points, narrowly avoiding whacking a stranger dancing close by as he does so, “We need him. Ooooh, we need him, we need him, we need him. Forget those pumpkins! Let’s take that one!”

[theromandaniels]

Roman had another argument on his tongue — that usually the pillars of the community didn’t have to announce it, and the ones for LGBTQ+ youth specifically probably didn’t get their phone numbers blocked by drug dealers at Pride events — but he decided against it. Only because he could see them arguing in circles, him storming off, never to be able to return here again. And thus never being able to get the tools to help him with becoming more of himself. 

Of course, it would have been way too easy for this fucking prick to point him in the direction of someone actually helpful, suggesting himself as a challenge. Roman stared blankly at him, knowing that whatever he decided — divulging in his reasons for being here, or leaving — was some sort of defeat. That he was going to lose to this fucking clown.

“Honesty is, but there’s a difference between being open and being a twat.” He pointed out as he rattled off his ‘core values’ shtick. At least from the younger man, he didn’t come across as too cheesy as he imagined a lot of these phrases would have from the other volunteers. “But fine. I’m here to talk to someone regarding…labels.” It was a start at least, the word huffing out through now gritted teeth.

[sebastianvora]

Now, it didn’t take much for Sebastian to think negatively about anyone — in truth, most days, a singular glance in his direction when he didn’t expect it was enough to set him off — so, clearly, his opinion needed to be taken with a grain of salt. But he really, really hated this guy. Thought he was a massive fucking dickhead. Like, the fun police in the flesh. First, he didn’t let King Charles explore the record store. Then, he made him jump through hoops trying to use his goddamn phone to contact his dealer at Pride, of all places. Now, well ... he wasn’t exactly doing anything in particular, other than standing there all crabbily and pissing him off, but — hey. He could also look a bit happier to be alive, couldn’t he? What an asshole, he thought.

Even still, however, there was some sort of ... pull, he’d say, to help him out. Not because he actually cared, in the grand scheme of things, but out of spite. It was evident that he, whatever his name was, thought just as negatively about him, and of course, he would never admit to deserving such negativity himself. So perhaps he wanted to prove his goodness — really fucking rub it in his face that he was a pillar of society like he’d said — so Mr. Miserable could eat his words. He was, obviously, blissfully unaware of the irony laden in his desire. Doing something good for a reason that was not so good.

“Goofy ass fuckin’ insult, by the way,” he interjected, because he wasn’t about to let him get the last word either. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at him like he was debating just how helpful he wanted to be. Should he say what the most generically helpful answer was, or should he say what he actually thought?

After a moment, he replied, “Do you, like, not know what they are, orrrr?” A sigh left his lips, like he was giving in. “Cause, I mean, there’s like a shitload of ‘em. They’re all kind of stupid, though,” he said. “Just ways for everyone else to shove you into little boxes.”

[guiltsweptarc]

philly nods along as sebastian takes his cue to speak; their face very still, and very stern - it's a bit like staring into the eyes of a displeased victorian spirit. like if one was to disagree; philly would appear at the foot of their bed. haunt them a little. she likes to think that this factor alone is very convincing. their eyes flicker from the poster, to sebastian again. oh. perhaps he isn't bartamus. their hands, curled around sebastian's arms, slowly drop to their sides - a small interjection in between his words, "i do believe bartamus is more pleasing to the eye than this outlaw - it's the mustache, it's very full, so full it's almost impossible to upkeep it seems."

even if sebastian isn't bartamus ( it's still up in the air whether philly did receive organs from a bartamus ); they can tell that he's a soul in need of help. something akin to real recognizes real. it's not something she's expected today - but nonetheless, it's something philly is ( minimally ) amused by. as the employee walks away, she turns her attention back to sebastian. "you're wasting very precious time by asking, bartamus." grabbing onto him again, if only to pull him along - philly pushes through the arcade doors. "although, i do expect a reward for my help - as you know, no good deed goes unrewarded." their eyes scan the arcade as they walk, pausing and landing on the claw machine. "that octopus - it's very noble looking. plenty of legs. i desire it, bartamus. i need the octoupus."

[sebastianvora]

Sebastian’s still, very much so, hung up on the whole Bartamus thing. Still is wondering if he looks that ugly with this stupid fuzzy mustache to be deserving of a name that wretched, regardless of how well it’s worked to deter the employee in their path. It’s evident by the way his entire body cringes as he hears it again, his expression twisting it unmistakable disgust. “You couldn’t have picked, like, any other name? Bro, Bartamus sounds like I’m seven thousand years old and the highlight of my day is switching from the couch to the recliner or some shit like that. Fucked up, I’m tellin’ you — I don’t look like a Bartamus,” he whines. “I’m just, like, a wicked good actor. We’re both lucky.”

Nevertheless, he follows with a little pep in his step as Philly pulls him along through the arcade. They’re on borrowed time, seeing as they’ll only be able to navigate this place for so long before someone else shows up to argue against his presence, but he’s blissfully ignorant to such a fact. Just delighted that his disguise actually worked, in the end. “You want this?” he lazily points to the bundle of octopi in the machine, precariously placed so the claw may very well never be able to grab them. Doesn’t matter, though, as he plans to just stick his arm as deep as it’ll go and pull one out. He looks around as if to scope out his surroundings, to see if anyone’s watching before he sinks to his knees. “What color you want?” he asks, because if he’s going to do it, might as well make sure it’s the one that Philly likes the most.

[sebastianvora]

WHERE / Phantom Manor.

WHEN / October 31st, outside the Haunted Rave.

WITH / Hunter Vora — @huntervtheworld.

As it turns out, Clarence — the ten foot skeleton that he and Jeanie ripped from the zipties that secured it to a railing within the manor — is a fucking bitch to lug around. That, and people keep fucking stepping on him as he’s trying to dance, and it’s getting so goddamn annoying that it’s almost not worth the hassle it took to steal him. Hence, he’s decided to drag him outside instead, letting his legs make a trail in the dirt as he scouts the perimeter for somewhere nice to stash him. For later, obviously, because there’s no way in hell that he’s leaving without him; he’s already named him and everything, so. Might as well be his son, at this point.

He thinks that there’s a bush just on the other side of the fence that would fit Clarence’s large stature perfectly, where someone else with a similar idea of nabbing sick ass decorations might not see him. He’s en route when he spots Hunter ahead of him, and he says, as if his actions aren’t abnormal in the slightest, “Oh, hey.”

His eyes drag across his brother’s frame — doesn’t really take notice of the miserable aura that emits from his entire body — and he raises his eyebrows suggestively. “You busy? Wanna help me get this fucker over that fence over there?”

[angelramirez]

VICTORY SECURED, though angel didn't know if it was a victory seeing as the other party completely gave up at the first sign of resistance. he just let out a big sigh and put all the responsibility on him. which, not okay at all. he already had a kid to watch over. but apparently that meant nothing to the employee and they got left alone. angel turned his attention back to seb and gave him a shit eating grin before the other shook him in celebration. "dude, i know what you did, don't fucking downplay it." he shook his head in disbelief. "you know it's a punishment not even close to fitting for the crime. you should be lucky they still let you hustle your way inside." still, he followed seb as he immediately started making claims about what he'd do to the place, and angel quickly rid himself of the responsibility bestowed upon him. "i'm just leaving lunch for miles," angel replied. "after i'm getting ready to go into work. not aurora," he added, if that made a difference to seb. "just some fancy event at la galleria." he eyed the claw machine, said a quick prayer to the heavens above, and shook his head. "for my best interest i'll bow out. and ask you to at least warn miles what you're going to do."

[sebastianvora]

Sebastian doesn’t think he’s downplaying his complete and utter destruction of the bowling alley, that’s the thing — in his entirely warped, self-centered mind, the damage he did on CJ’s birthday is nothing short of minimal, and the establishment and all of its employees are merely being dramatic about the needed refurbishment. Because they’re the fun police, or whatever. Can’t stand a party that’s actually worth coming to, he supposes.

The moment he stepped out of the arcade that night he was ridden of all responsibility, on account of his husband’s super successful lawyer brother-in-law or something like that, so he doesn’t necessarily care anymore. Thinks he should still be allowed inside, because why should they care if he steals a little claw machine prize or two? It’s not like he’s here to get wasted out of his mind again — especially alone.

“Hey, man, not my fault they couldn’t handle my vibes!” he exclaims with a shrug of his shoulder, as if Angel’s point wasn’t completely valid. “They're fuckin’ ridiculous if they really believed this whole mustache thing — I got it at, like, party city. For three dollars! It looks fake as hell.” He reaches to his lips to pull the already deteriorating fake mustache off his skin, discarding it. Was it silly of him to do so now before he actually got to stick his hand in the claw machine? Maybe, but at the very least he’ll be able to use the disguise again if he gets caught.

“Oh, come on, that’s lame. You don’t wanna stick around for, like, two seconds? I’ll get a second one for you, if you want — there’s clearly a shit ton in there. How ‘bout that octopus?”

[theromandaniels]

Considering how their past interaction went, Roman wasn't surprised by the immediate hostility, though he did huff out in annoyance. How this young man managed to get under his skin within a matter of seconds would have been admirable, if, of course, Roman wasn't the subject at hand. Still, he tried to count to five in his head, because no matter what obstacles (real or self-imposed) tried to get in his way, the shop owner wasn't leaving this centre until he got the clarity he had been looking for.

Still, if he was immediately going to be met with malevolence, he was going to hit back. "Looks like you're doing wonders for the community." He drawled, nodding towards his current state, lounging over the fucking furrniture as if he owned the place. "I'm not here to be a dick. I'm actually here for —," He stopped short, realising that he didn't owe this idiot an explanation.

"I just want to have a chat with someone. And not be told my 'vibe'," Roman even lifted his left hand up to mimic quotations, "is 'rancid' upon walking through the bloody door. Not very welcoming for a community centre, is it?"

[sebastianvora]

It was wholly unbelievable to Sebastian that this guy wasn’t parading around here just to be a dick — because, well, look at him! He was nothing if not sketchy as fuck in appearance, and the way that his eyes travelled around the place practically screamed bigotry as far as he was concerned. Sure, maybe there wasn’t any hard evidence of this fact — other than their previous encounters which have been, predictably, less than pleasant — but the fighter was stubborn, and opinionated, and didn't often change his mind on anything once it was set. Especially not moldy, rancid vibes.

“I fuckin’ am,” he argued, his lack of patience already starting to bubble underneath his skin. “Ask fuckin’ — anyone else here, I’m a goddamn pillar of this place or some shit. Everyone loves me.”

And as insufferable as he often was, he wasn't necessarily wrong for once. Within the walls of the community center he held a certain kind of charm that the kids respected — probably because it was so easy for him to relate to how they felt, finding it akin to second-nature to get on their level. The other volunteers, perhaps, not so much ... they always thought he could do with a bit less hostility, a cleaner vocabulary, but he didn't care. “I dunno what you want me to say, dude, I'm just bein’ honest. Honesty is actually, like, one of the core values to build a nice, welcoming environment.” Or whatever Susanne says, he thought. He shifted in the beanbag so that he could sit up a little straighter. “Sooooo, you can talk to me. No bullshit, though, or I will tell you to fuck off. What do you want?”

[sebastianvora]

SEBASTIAN VORA as SEXY TINMAN from THE WIZARD OF OZ. — Phantom Manor Halloween Haunted Rave 2024.

Sebastian's costume consists of nothing but shiny, metallic pants and silver body paint ( that rubs off way too easily ). From time to time, he can be seen with a metal funnel on his head — meant to replicate the character's hat — but for most of the rave, he can't be fucked to wear it outside of photos or to properly campaign for votes for the contest. Matching with @thephoebeyates as Dorothy.

[thephoebeyates]

PHOEBE: aww babe <3 PHOEBE: oh well, idk. dorothy's dog toto goes in there but i can't exactly take misty to a rave. besides she'd scratch me to ribbons if i tried. maybe we could try and sneak in some bottles? PHOEBE: i'm not lending you my good exfoliator scrub this time! PHOEBE: oh behave lmao, besides done with married men for a while

[sebastianvora]

SEBASTIAN: DUDE CHARLES IS RIGHT HERE SEBASTIAN: WE CAN TAKE CHARLES WITH US HE WOULD LOVE A RAVE!!!!!!! SEBASTIAN: ill figure it out dw ur precious little head SEBASTIAN: 💀💀💀💀 lmfaoooo

[thephoebeyates]

PHOEBE: people will be weird as long as the world keeps turning i'm afraid PHOEBE: i dont get why halloween needs to be so sexy tho. my dress goes past my knes, my shoes arent high heels, and i have a proper working wicker basket. childhood whimsy of halloween is soooo back PHOEBE: yes. very bad idea! PHOEBE: icr anything of note happening PHOEBE: i mean like, cj is attractive so that's a given. and i'm not just saying that bc legally he's your husband

[sebastianvora]

SEBASTIAN: we have 2 verrrry different ideas of halloween but thats ok. i still fw u SEBASTIAN: what do u put in the basket btw?? SEBASTIAN: sick im gonna do it 😈😈 SEBASTIAN: girl back off ill bark at u too idgaf

[thephoebeyates]

PHOEBE: like you give a shit if people side eye you or not PHOEBE: Maybe? idk dude i heard it stains p. badly PHOEBE: wasn't he Batman last year?

[sebastianvora]

SEBASTIAN: i dont SEBASTIAN: but its still nice that people arent fuckin weirdos like normal SEBASTIAN: so its probably a bad idea to spray my whole shit with it? is what ur saying? SEBASTIAN: im gonna keep it a stack with u i was too fucked up last halloween to remember SEBASTIAN: hes gonna look hot tho

[thephoebeyates]

PHOEBE: oh i'm sorry i forgot the only options in life are sexy tinman or nothing? 🙄 PHOEBE: what is cj going as?

[sebastianvora]

SEBASTIAN: its halloween pheeb its the ONE holiday a year i dont get fuckin side eyed for being as sexy as i am so might as well go full sexy SEBASTIAN: WAIT SEBASTIAN: spirit has body paint dont they???? SEBASTIAN: he says batman