INNIT HELLO! I finally get to speak to you! You're one of my favourites! One of my- because I am physically unable to pick one or rank them. Unless we're going with the order in which you became my favourite- in which you would be second place, but only because I knew about Vio far before I knew you existed! (You wouldn't believe how I felt after seeing you were shut off AGAIN- the Showrunner- or Scribe- or both or whatever, very cruel. CRUEL.)
But I am getting horribly off topic. You! Innit! Is there anything you want? Things, information? I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to give but I sure will push the limits! I've seen you like physical affection, though, and you deserve all the hugs and head pats in the world!
*hugs Innit (with enough time for it to pull away if it wants to) and gives many many headpats*
Innit perks up at the new entity that enters its space.
An adorably round, silvery, slightly wispy raccoon bounds up to it. It laughs with delight as its new friend scrambles up its sweater to perch on its shoulder.
It reaches up to put a clawed hand on their back, purring from the warm greeting and affection.
“Thank you,” it says, gently scritching the chittering creature, who is enthusiastically patting its head. Having someone upset at its treatment is a balm on old, festering wounds; all of its suffering has not gone unnoticed.
Having others who really, truly care for it is one of the things it used to fantasize about.
…At least, before the fantasies nearly drove it mad. It couldn’t afford to go insane– not if it wanted to one day pay Daz back for his cruelty.
The way the newest member of its circle speaks of the Scribe gives it pause. Break had said something similar, hadn’t they? ‘There’s no point in lying to the scribe. Or the showrunner.’
Are…are there two entities? As far as Innit has seen, only the Scribe has been present, though, so…what does this Showrunner do? And, more importantly, what are their allegiances?
Those questions can wait, though. It needs some time to ruminate on them a little more.
Currently, there’s a new friend present. It can’t stand the thought of being rude to them, especially not on their first meeting. “For things I want…hmm. I don't suppose you can get me a real body, huh?”
Its tone is rueful, the statement made half as a joke. There’s no way the Observers have that much power; if they did, surely that would have already happened. After all, it seems to have gathered a small collection of critters-and-mannequins that enjoy its company.
“How about your name? I think that would be a good place to start.”
