At the bottom of Eren’s closet is a torn leather sleeve, which they can’t seem to let go despite its utter uselessness... outside of the following scenario, in an AU featuring @s1rl01n-dol’s Regan the Bruiser:
[This takes place in the winter or early spring. Eren is still 18, they haven’t earned their current epithet, and their halo hasn’t broken yet. Regan sees them for the first time since Whitney’s dismissal event a few nights prior. Up to 1270 words, including options, stat gains/losses, and notes. Made with dol-pancake.]
I wonder if this event should give you a feat if it were to happen in-game…
Likely they know eachother both from church (Daisy is a "monk" there) as well as at Darryl's (Daisy doesn't usually dance there, but she likes being a bartender there because its the only place she can do non-sex stuff while dressed in her cow print bikini).
@ambicutiebutt
WAHHH I LOVE THIS... i wonder what daisy could get out of yara... yara is very exploitable! i think daisy could get a lot out of her if she wanted!
yara would feel an immediate kinship with daisy based on her being a member of the temple and her coworker at the club... she'd spend a lot of time at the bar ordering drinks as an excuse to talk to her and end up getting smashed </3 she's definitely complimenting the cowprint bikini too..!!
yara would accept whatever deception daisy threw at her as long as daisy paid lip service to caring about yara too. and at least pretended to be a little vulnerable in return... she'd probably even catch on to the fact that she's being used or lied to and not care. daisy would probably find her pretty pathetic (giggles and twirls my hair)
Bill Sonezaki wasn’t normally the type to balk at any bright idea of the information age, seeing as he was one of the few responsible for it, but there really was nothing he hated more than read receipts. With those damned things, even sending no message was sending some message. And knowing her, Bill had a pretty good idea of what that message was, and it did not bear repeating in polite company.
According to Bill, this was Day Seven, Post-Read Receipt. That this event had shaken him to the point that he’d invented a system of keeping time around it probably spoke to his dire need to get out more. But to do that you had to either be okay with yourself or have a reason to go outside, and neither of those things were true for Bill.
He didn’t get it. One day they were sharing memes over the internet, and the next the line went dark. Was it something he said? For the hundredth time he scrolled through the records of their chatlog. There was nothing, really. A couple bugs she’d found in Sinnoh’s PC system, a video he’d sent her of a baby Eevee curled up in a tissue box, and finally his invitation to come visit the Cape sometime:
Bill: I reckon you’d find there’s a lot to like on Cerulean Cape!
Bebe: oh yeah? Like what ;)
Bill: well the temperature at this time of year is just perfect
Bebe: lol
Bill: and there’s always a ton of trainers fixin for a battle it’s so darn lively up here
Bill: and I haven’t even mentioned the view yet! You won’t /believe/ it.
Bill: so, uh
Bill: that a yes?
That’s where it ended.
After a few more minutes of puzzling over what it meant, staring wistfully at her profile (status: online), and shamelessly clicking on various pointless articles (”What She Really Meant When She Shared That Meme With You” and “This Abra Gets Into the Flour and Tries to Teleport And It’s Hysterical”), Bill decided enough was enough. He got up, brought himself to the kitchen, and began searching through his refrigerator for breakfast. But the funny thing about being a shut-in is that for every day you do it, your food supply grows shorter and shorter.
Thankfully the buzz of a notification from his computer saved him from drawing the conclusion that he’d have to go grocery shopping. He sped back to his computer in hopes that Bebe had finally responded-
Lanette: I need you to come here and fix something for me
Bill: Uhhh...Now?
Lanette: Yes
Bill: You know I haven’t really been out much lately.
Lanette: Which is why you’re going to stop crying about Bebe, leave your house, and come fix this for me.
Bill groaned. Apparently his suffering meant nothing to his friend.
Bill: Well what’s goin’ on? Maybe i can try a little remote support before I have to up and travel all the way to Hoenn
Lanette: it blew up
Bill: wHAT
Lanette: come now
Bill: Lanette
Bill: Lanette, what blew up
Lanette is offline
Bill had come to learn that Lanette’s messages were short for efficiency’s sake. She never spent time on a task that she did not deem worth it, and as a result she often forgot to eat or sleep or tidy up. This was, of course, a common side effect of being this passionate about your work, but Lanette took it to the extreme. If something had blown up, Bill was almost certain that it was because of her haphazard habits.
With a groan he got up and got together a small overnight bag. He slipped on a jacket and headed out the door. If he was quick, he could catch the next ship to Slateport and be at Lanette’s by the end of the day.
The sun was setting in Fallarbor when he arrived. He still had a bit of a hike to go before he was at Lanette’s, but he’d made the trip before. Bill hadn’t noticed anything about Hoenn’s technological infrastructure exploding on Hoenn TV, nor had he seen any riots or region-wide panic. When he called Lanette to ask about it, she mentioned that her backup servers were able to retrieve the data from Celio’s computer in the Sevii Islands. This whole situation was beginning to reek like a magikarp out of water, but he had already come this far.
Besides, getting out of the house had been good for him. It had taken his mind off of things to watch Vermilion disappear from view, the wind tugging at his hair and jacket. He hadn’t seen Hoenn in a long time, so the trip was refreshing, although he could’ve done without the sooty air of the north.
When he’d at last made it to Lanette’s front door, there was nothing about it that would have given away the presence of an explosion. Her house was intact (a small explosion? likely), and there was no lingering smell of burning anything (Lanette had cleaned up? less likely). He barged in and stopped cold in the doorway.
There was Bebe the Battle Girl yelling and wildly gesticulating at a very patient Lanette. Bill was able to catch the tail end of the conversation.
“-all the way out here to put out a fire that didn’t even exist in the first place!”
“Well, no, but-”
“Why’d you even call me all the way from Veilstone if it wasn’t an emergency?”
Lanette pointed to the doorway. When Bebe turned, she saw Bill attempting to inch his way out of the room and back into the outside world as noiselessly as possible.
“Bill!” She seethed. “Don’t you dare move!” The pokemaniac stopped in his tracks. Bebe whirled towards Lanette. “Him? You called him here?”
Lanette blinked. “Well I just thought-”
“I don’t want to see him!” she yelled. Almost immediately she looked back at Bill and snapped, “You stay right there. I’m not done with you.”
Bill put his hands up in defense. So it was something he’d said after all. Seeing him now had really set her off, however, and Lanette was famously bad at diffusing these types of situations. Quietly, Bill began to speak while keeping his hands up in front of him. “Now let’s quit hollerin’ in our friend’s house and see why she wanted to see us.”
Bebe didn’t take kindly to being told what to do, but even she couldn’t deny that she needed to calm down. She crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. Bill couldn’t believe that worked. He lowered his hands and nodded at Lanette.
“Because,” Lanette blurted. “You’re both driving me crazy! You’ve been friends since college, and we’re all on the same team. So you’re going to stop complaining to me and work this out. Now.” With a pointed look at the both of them, she made her way to the door, pushing past Bill. “Call me when you’re done.” And she was gone.
Without a facilitator, the two were silent. Bebe, with her arms still crossed, kicked at a screwdriver that had been carelessly left on the floor. Bill cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck.
Bebe spoke first. “You don’t have to stand in the door, you know.”
Unsure if it was a trap, Bill gingerly took a step toward one of Lanette’s chairs. When Bebe made no sudden movements, Bill went to the chair, dumped the stack of papers that had been residing on it on the floor, and took a seat. He stared at the floor for a few moments, gathering his courage.
“Gee, Bebe, I’m mighty sorry about whatever it is I-”
“You don’t even know why I’m mad.”
"Heck no!”
“You could’ve asked!”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
Bill noticed she was biting her lip. She tapped her foot a couple times on the floor, took a deep breath, and looked at him. “It’s- you- Bill.” The first few words were short and choppy, three individual words being pulled, reluctantly, from the rest of the problem. Once they were out, however, the rest followed all at once:
“I just never know what it’s going to be with you. I like you, but one day we’re- I don’t know- one day you like me, and the next you’re inviting me to the Cape to see the sights, not you, and I-Are you even flirting with me? I’m just sick of not knowing what’s going on!”
Bill’s jaw would’ve made its way to the floor if it had had enough time during Bebe’s plight. He felt her gaze burning straight through him as he searched for something to say.
“I hadn’t the slightest idea you felt that way,” he said quietly. “I guess I was so afraid of losin’ a friend I never even thought about that bein’ a possibility.”
Bebe considered that for a moment before letting a snicker pass through her front of fury.
“What’s so funny?”
Bebe laughed, for real this time. “Us, Bill. Both of us. We don’t know what we’re doing.”
“And I suppose talkin’ mostly through the computer doesn’t help much,” he said. Bebe shook her head.
To fill the air, Bebe tried a joke: “Well, I guess something did blow up in Lanette’s today.”
Bill grinned. “Ya sure did.”
Bill stood up and went to take Bebe’s hand. “Aright, Bebe, new rule. When somethin’s buggin’ ya, you say something.”
