{ frogbandmaestro }
❝ I thought you said they COULD sing? One of them is just staring at me.❞

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{ frogbandmaestro }
❝ I thought you said they COULD sing? One of them is just staring at me.❞
Ahem. Watch the language, mister. ((I'm sorry I couldn't resist *scurries away*))
" ASDFKAJJKSJ—MOM? Okay, Do all moms have some sort of freaky sonar hearing? And if so, why must you use it against your poor, innocent children !? ”
frogbandmaestro started following you
"Wooah!! Are those frogs singing?? I've only seen frogs playing instruments--! Well.. I've seen one frog sing, good ol' Jason Funderberker right here!!"
"frogbandmaestro is an absolute joy to write and plot with--such a sweetheart, both IC and OOC!"
✘ (because clearly we need more text threads)
[TEXT: 7:30PM]: You. Me. Bathtub. Three milk jugs full of gasoline. Tonight is starting to smell like a night to remember my brother
{ willlivetorise, frogbandmaestro, onlxone }
"Welcome to Tea Upon a Time!" the man, known here as Clyde Hare, called to the person who'd come into his little shop. "Would you like to try our newest tea?"
Voice!!
If I Get 10 "Voice" Messages, I, The Mun, Will Either Sing Or Read A Passage From A Book (Of My Choosing)2/10
alt!
Send me “alt!” and I’ll introduce you to a character I’ve played in the past, want to play in the future or are currently playing somewhere else!
Previously Played: Diana Goodman - Next to Normal
Nineteen years - nineteen years of memories swirling, ever swirling, refusing to stick, to linger, to stay....
One hand curled around a small album, eyes flicking across the pages within. Picture after picture after picture-- and every now and again, a snap of recognition, of understanding, of--
Then, just like that, it was gone again.
Somewhere along the way, she'd stopped, thumb rubbing against a picture of herself holding a tiny baby-shaped bundle, a smile tucked in her lips, turned towards Dan - he was her husband now, why did that feel so weird? - and she assumed, in that black and white photo, that the bundle was Natalie, her daughter she had a daughter, and that fit, that was right, but something about this photo did not fit, but hell if she knew what the fuck it was.
For a moment, something flickered out of the corner of her eye, and she turned, expecting someone, anyone, to be there - but there was nothing and no one. Her lips pressed together as she turned to the photos once more, and after a long second look, she continued her attempt at reminiscing.
Something was missing.
Of course something was missing; her memory was missing.
But something...else.
What was it?