So Igey snapped over here
"Its fine, its fine, she just needs to work it out of her system -- though maybe we should go stand just a smidge further away?"
@spotofmummery

seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Estonia
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia

seen from Poland

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
So Igey snapped over here
"Its fine, its fine, she just needs to work it out of her system -- though maybe we should go stand just a smidge further away?"
@spotofmummery
Why do you yell at the baby boys the Jet Twins 🥺
[ Sentinel points sternly at you. "They're NOT babies." ]
The fact that he knows what a 'babies' is is already disgusting. Primus below.
"They're relatively new builds, I grant that, but they- and all of us -were made as- as adults, or whatever you organics call it. We don't grow like that."
Babies. Bleugh.
hey girl *several crashing noises are heard* nice treads there. Hyd 😏
@tfa-bee-and-c
He looks up as the yellow mech comes careening into his office- "Bumblebee?"
Blue-glass optics flick between where the crashing catastrophe echoes, to Bee, and back. "You" -the compliment hits him, and he steeples his servos in front of himself- "I'm... fine. What are you doing here?"
Bumblebee smiled as he leads a child into the lab. "Hey Preceptor, Razor has something for you!"
Razorwing happily runs over, being careful of random wires and cables on the floor, and holds up a bag of cookies towards the scientist.
"Oh?"
How curious.
He sets his wafers to the side, fresh from their acid bath. The etching was done, and all that remained was to cut the chips out of the matrix, and then-. But that wasn't terribly important at the moment, was it?
It seemed that Bumblebee had brought a visitor.
"Greetings, Razor," he dips his helm, a nod, before accepting the bag of cookies. "Are these to share with the rest of the lab?"
"I want dessert with peaches in it! Or a cup of fresh peach juice!"
“I...think we can get something with peaches in Gridania? How about a cobbler? I love cobbler myself! And I think I’ve even got some spare gil!”
What your oponion on the dominican republic ?
“Just why is he the way he is?!”
( @halcyonic-aether I've fallen in love with the Frilled Lizard!) "I found this strange lil guy in some sidestreet, he looked hungry. I gave him some jerkey. Guess I've a new pet now eh?"
Extra
Short Story
Miscellaneous
Read the full articles here & here!
The sudden and sharp knocks on her bedroom door stirred Khenbish from her morning grumping. She had just bathed, dressed, and made her near-afternoon coffee. People, she had decided, were not something she was yet ready to deal with. Alas, when she failed to open the door immediately, the knocks continued in quick succession.
“I know you’re not sleeping!” the perpetually disinterested voice marked her guest none other than Arah. “Open this fucking door before I break it down, Jane!”
Pale eyes narrowed at the door, as if she willed the Keeper on the other side to dare, but eventually she sighed loud enough to be heard. Khen shoved herself out of the comfortable sofa she had settled into, crossed the carpet flooring with her coffee mug in hand, and finally unlocked her door. She barely managed to dodge it flying open when the clicks were finished. Arah stormed passed the threshold and smashed a handful of papers against her cleavage. They were pinned there by a single piece of paper.
“Have you read this?”
“Read what?”
“This! All of this!”
Despite the blandness of Arah’s typical commentary, there was a hint of something akin to excitement. Khenbish narrowed her eyes down at her chest. She reached up to remove Arah’s finger from the paper, peel it from her chest, and turn it to be properly analyzed. The coffee was brought to her lips as she meandered back towards her couch. Arah took the liberty of closing the door she flew open and then quickly toddled after her.
“The Crystal Chronicle,” Khen read aloud. “That’s the press that interviewed me.”
Twice. Khen cringed a little at the mental reminder and sighed.
“Why are you so excited? And since when did I ever read a newspaper?”
“Shut up, drink your damn coffee, and read the newspaper. Specifically on, y’know, the articles they have listed that you were involved in.”
Pale gaze rose from above the paper’s edge to promptly glare over at Arah. Still, she sighed and looked back to the article list. Her brows knitted specifically at, ‘Little Ladies’ Day Charity Ball and Banquet,’ and, ‘Spring Musical Festival Draws Talented Artists and Large Crowds.’ Somehow, she managed to not cringe although her heart fell into her stomach. She must have paled a shade because Arah’s finger jabbed into her bicep before it pointed at the first article. Khenbish brought the coffee to her lips to mask the fact she held her breath.
It was to my great pleasure that I came across fliers pertaining to the Little Ladies’ Charity Ball and Banquet jointly hosted by the lovely Thaliak’s Embrace and The Midnight Pearl; though I have only been a freelance columnist for The Crystal Chronicle thus far, I decided to try my hand at covering an event that was dear to my heart. . .
As Khenbish continued to read on, her breath was released. Her rigid frame relaxed and she leaned more comfortably into the sofa. Her coffee was handed off to Arah so that she could give the paper her more undivided attention. Lips rolled inwards and her head tilted briefly to the side. There was a glint of honor as she read through Utsunqu'ur’s praise. She flipped to page two to finish off the article and then set it down on her lap to digest the words.
“She called me lady six times,” was the first thing to come out of Khen’s mouth.
“Yes, it is a formal state of address,” Arah replied a touch more dully.
“She sponsored five orphans,” Khen informed a little more quietly. “Five.”
“It seems you won the heart of someone. Did you read the other article?”
“Not yet.”
Arah snapped her fingers sharply twice and then pointed at the newspaper. With a quiet groan, Khenbish picked it back up from her lap, and read the following article. Though, she was interrupted partway through by Arah abruptly turning the page to point at the very image of Khenbish. Khen’s head tilted to the other side and her tail flicked. A brief smile touched her lips at the artwork but another snap from Arah put her attention on the write up itself.
The highly recognizable Khenbish Monsaran. . .
All it took was five words to turn her cheeks pink. Her free hand rose to pinch between her eyes and she squirmed in her seat. She took a deep breath and held it as her hand lowered from her face. She was quick to read the rest of the article. Her bottom lip chewed on the entire time. By the end of it, Khen sighed with relief and managed a small but genuine smile.
“I sound so cliche,” she scolded herself. “I have no idea what to expect in interviews.”
“Because you dodged them most of your performance career. How did you get trapped in doing not one, but two?”
“If I snuck out of the Cat’s Meow, someone would have noticed,” she murmured a touch defeated. “Though I considered escaping a few times while they interviewed ahead of me. The second time, I didn’t even know Utsunqu'ur was the press until there she was, right there, looking to interview me. A touch hard to flee from, ‘Suddenly an interview.’”
“So that’s all it took? Other journalists clearly need to step up their approach methods.”
“I’ve been trying to be less dodgy now that I’m running the sanctuary. The orphanage could use a little press.”
“Benefits the fact you’re doing more solo work,” Arah pointed out.
“I mean, yes, but that wasn’t exactly the goal.”
There was a moment where Arah went silent before she continued with another topic.
“They wrote you well,” she complimented. “For all your fears of bad press, they actually seemed to enjoy your time.”
“Admittedly they were quite kind,” Khen recalled with a smile. “The first journalist informed me he was a fan and the second, well, seemed to enjoy the charity event quite a bit. The latter informed me that I was apparently a, ‘Person of Interest,’ for the Chronicle? I’m not sure what that means beyond the fact they wish to speak with me further.”
“Have they contacted you since the charity?”
“Not yet, but I’ve been busy, and I imagine they have been as well.”
“Let me know if they do?”
“I mean sure, but why?”
“I’m going to start a little fan board of all your articles.”
“Oh, fucking shut up!”
{{ Mentions @the-throne-of-hearts }}