#rainonglass 05

[wovensentinel]

@rainonglass said: BEEP

18. a drunk text

Working in the Dome has left Hornet with quite a bit of Dust to spend. She's never had anywhere near this much money, and she's never known what to do with her money when she had it. Whenever she had extra Geo to her name, she'd first try to spend it by giving it to those more in need of it than her. If that fell through or if she still had some even after that, she'd resort to casual luxuries. A ticket to a particularly nice seat in the Coliseum of Fools, a relaxing evening in the Tower of Love... Money is meant to be spent on experiences.

Which is obviously why she currently finds herself on her third glass of... what do they serve at this place again? It doesn't matter, it's good. A pleasant buzz has overcome Hornet, and this may be the only case where she finds that not only acceptable, but enjoyable. She's all warm and fuzzy and filled with a new vigor for life. Rung was right– this place is new and filled with new opportunities for her to start entirely fresh with. Of course, that starts with the one thing that's the same from Hallownest. Who knew bugs and humans made alcohol the same way?

No, really it starts with this damn phone. She's been tapping random icons for the past twenty minutes, trying to figure out what everything does. Of course, this process would be a lot easier if she was both sober and able to read... but this way is more fun. She ends up on a screen with a lot of letters... What does this icon do?

Suddenly, there's a beep from the phone, and the icon she had tapped pulses gently. "What...?" As she speaks, words appear on the screen. Is she... doing that? She can just make words appear if she wants?

To: Quirrel

Hornet [10:19 PM]: What

Hornet [10:19 PM]: Oh fuck yeah

Hornet [10:19 PM]: This is great I can just. Say things

Hornet [10:19 PM]: What do I do with this

[beyond-use]

@rainonglass​​ || SPIRALEFES STARTER CALL

“Quirrel?” It’s dark here by the river, but between the flickering of the candles and the bright glow of Rung’s own spark, it’s not hard to make out the bug’s familiar shape. Rung regrets calling out as soon as he’s done it-- it isn’t right to intrude, not during a ritual like this-- and he apologizes by keeping his distance when he moves to kneel at the river’s bank. It should give Quirrel the opportunity to ignore him, should he wish to.

These candles are technically meant for remembering a Spirale resident who has somehow left. Rung doesn’t know any-- Athena’s back now, after all-- and he’s not sure such a somber rite would be entirely appropriate for celebrating a friend’s escape anyway. He’s here to remember the dead, not the missing, and he can’t help but wonder whether Quirrel’s here for the same reason.

That candle is for Monomon, probably. Rung looks down at his own flower-raft before sparing another glance at Quirrel. They haven’t seen each other since their dual memory loss. The bug had seemed so... different then. Rung’s sure he had, too.

He shifts closer ever so slightly. He won’t intrude on Quirrel’s remembrance, but it’s important, he thinks, to make it clear that he’s there for support should the bug want it.

Not as a doctor this time, but as a fellow mourner.