#prkh

[frogcase]

@prkh; idle hands are the devil's best friend.

pocket   hums   ⸺   they   can't   exactly   *disagree   with   ramya,   despite   feeling   as   if   they're   going   to   fall   into   small   pieces   if   they   do   anything   else.   they   can't   really   decide   what   is   a   worse   fate   ⸺   almost   falling   into   small   pieces   but   thoroughly   distracted,   or   taking   a   break   whilst   also   subjecting   themselves   to   a   *bored   mind.   they   decide   on   the   latter   with   a   dry   chuckle,   undoing   the   braid   of   twine   they'd   been   redoing   a   couple   times   over   now.

❝ i   think   you're   *right,   but   i   need   to   find   something   else   to   do.   ideas? ❞

[devoetions]

| | @prkh liked, → dialogue based.

dented inside of (ramya's) universe. tangled, like yarn needing gentle care. ❛ oooohh … ❜ a muse is hummed, spoken from the lips of the witch. ❛ psamanthe's in retrograde. ❜ hands clasped together, overlapped fingers, while features speak for themselves of (wincing, apologetic) wherein eyes fall on the other legend. you suck air in through your teeth, ❛ that's bad news for you. ❜

[devilsparda]

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️

sending u a field of 🌻 back… ur blogs are a staple on my dash and i honestly can’t imagine a dash without u on it 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[justdelivers]

deliver my weapons, boy

             Go get your own damn weapons if you want them that bad.

[forfuse]

it was all his idea really. he's got this thing now called free time, and that means slacking off. walter considers himself to be friends with most of the relevant people who participate in the games, but rarely do they measure up with whatever he's got going on with @prkh. yeah. good mates. that's what he'll call this.

the sun is high and there's almost a crowd, it doesn't entirely piss him off as he's laying down on some beat up towel, swimsuit on chest exposed necklace and skin glistening almost, he hasn't gone into the water just yet. just drinking and catching the sun. it reminds him of a different time almost. his gaze turns to ramya who's distracted, staring off at some of the other people at the beach. he half catches himself staring and like well obviously, ramya isn't one to shy away from showing skin but this is. it's something else alright. ladies and gentlemen this is the first sign of trouble for walter fitzroy!

then, naturally, it is the perfect time to be annoying. good old fuse back at it. he presses the cold body of the can he's opening to ramya's exposed side. "oi." it's paired with a chuckle, half hoping to get a reacting out of it. "-what's with all th'starin' huh? regrettin' comin' along with old fusey, now?" he desperately wishes for the answer to be no. but he wouldn't blame her if it was.

[gambl4r]

❛ before you say anything — this is a last resort. ❜ it's the first thing out of her mouth the second she sets eyes on ramya, framed by the doorway to silco's office — or what was his office. now it's another of a hundred empty rooms in the undercity that once meant something, littered with bottles of all hues that she's pilfered unashamedly from the bar down below: rust-colored, burnished gold, green, labels peeled off, labels kept on.

in the ashtray sits a still-smoking cigarette, stubbed out. in the old days she would've stood, behind silco's chair, watching any audience that was lucky enough to enter the room. (if he needed her there, that is.) but she doesn't stand: she remains seated, on the couch, her other arm draped over the back.

she stops herself short, before she says anything stupid, like i can't fix it, or i can't ask jinx. but she sure as hell isn't going to the chem barons, not when they're at each other's throats like dogs with a taste for blood. so the last name in the book, the natural and unfortunate conclusion, had been... ramya. coolly: ❛ i need you to look at it. ❜ / @prkh.

[embodies]

hana regards her company with a studious gaze, eager to absorb what knowledge she can and rid herself of the mantle of d.va. if only temporarily. her cross - legged posture makes her seem even younger than her feeble age of nineteen, but her mind is aged with the weight that rests upon her shoulders. a sense of duty and diligence underlies everything she does now — whether she lathers it in pink hearts and bunnies or not. but in this moment, she is simply grateful.

❛ you. are. a. life saver ! ❜ volume increases with each step until it culminates in a shrill exclamation of glee, gloved hands thrusting into the air, celebratory. ❛ tokki would've been so done for if it wasn't for you, you're waaaaaay better with mekas than dae-hyun. uh, don't tell him that— ! ❜ the reversal of an exclamation made in too much excitement, grin sheepish amidst her relief. if her trusty mech was down for the count, she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

❛ thank you, ramya. i'll have to let you take her for a spin some time — you know ! as compensation. ❜ gratitude precedes the knowing glimmer in her eye, the offering of a joyride as sacred as donating a kidney to her. one would do well to know the importance of such a permission.

@prkh. ♡

[holopiloted]

@prkh asked: stands in his bedroom doorway, whips n naenaes & leaves in silence.

The look on his face is uncharacteristically...BLANK. Seemingly unperturbed by the whole thing — but anyone who knows Elliott would know it's quite the opposite...

His gaze remained LOCKED onto the now empty doorway for a moment, as if Ramya was still standing there; eventually, slowly, drifting back to the holopad that sat in his lap.

— he's gotta get his door fixed. ASAP.