Nov 29, 2013
Greetings Lad!
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Greetings Lad!
==> Steal
This was probably bad news, but to hell with it. Master Makara hadn't been present most of the day, likely attending to some business or social event or scheming-- whatever it was that kept highbloods busy. The rest of his staff ignored you, looking down on your for being bought for two weeks rather than paid monthly. It was all to your advantage. You were forgotten and no-one noticed when you started jogging through the halls in search of items.
You raided the laundry first, pulling open drawers and shoving thread, needles, and assorted soaps into your sylladex. You'd deal with irate spirits and their reluctance to give you the right things later. Your second stop was the guest washrooms where hopefully no-one would notice a few of the individually packaged toiletries missing.
Last stop: the kitchen. You paused in the middle of the room to flick on your handheld. Shit. Sollux had just come through with the co-ordinates. You'd have to be quick, in case she called on you. Off you darted into the pantry. You tried to take non-perishables from the very highest and very lowest shelves first, places where cans and boxes got forgotten. One by one they disappeared into your sylladex. When you were running low on space, you crept out to the fridge and snatched enough ingredients for a large dish.
You were completely loaded up. Time to roll.
==> Steal away into the night.
You tapped in the co-ordinates you had saved from last time into the transportalizer and stepped onto the platform. With a flash of light, you stepped off at the psionic's hive.
"Mekuda?"
stockholmpsionic started following you.
Psionic.... Name is familiar.
==> Dave was right. These bed things were cozy. Despite your reservations, those thoughts at the back of your mind nagging that you should go back-- once you sat down on those blankets and curled them around you, you couldn't really find the energy to resist.
-- amenableArmageddon [AA] logged off --
stockholmpsionic replied to your post: I follow so many people w)(o were freed from...
ii doubt you could do a good job of fiixiing them, consiideriing iit’s those liike you and your alternates that break them iin the fiirst place.
I'm nofin like my alternates, sweetest~
shruggalo and stockholmpsionic started following you!
"Hi there! My name's Junko Enoshima, super high school level fashion girl! How about you?"
"Also, because I'm obligated to ask... trick or treat?"
stockholmpsionic is now following you
H3LLO! W3LCOM3!
Every single one of these new followers were intriguing in some way or another...
==> Do the next round of greetings
...
==> ..Hello? Do the next round of greetings.
You're too busy staring off into space again. You look like you're focused on the keyboard, but your gaze is a millions alternian units away. You've been sitting there for a while now, ever since you sent those last replies to Nepeta and Mituna.
A few conversations today have weighed on your mind. There's good reason your other slave-holds never allowed internet access; thinking was dangerous, especially when instigated by people on the outside.
Too many thoughts were crowding your head alongside the same static of the dead, a dull swarm of bees drugged up on psionic suppressors and making you feel distant. The letters swam before your eyes. They looked wrong, like a language you'd never seen. But that was ridiculous. You knew universal and alternian perfectly well. You rubbed your forehead before looking over your shoulder at the rest of the room. The touch of skin on skin felt strange too but the buzzing of voices eased up a little. No-one was around to either watch you reproachfully or for you to pester about when your master would be contacting you. It was probably better that way.
==> Alright. Now try to get those done.
You can do that. Your fingers peck at the keyboard even more awkwardly than usual.
AA: um AA: hell0 AA: AA: AA: right welc0me t0 my bl0g AA: 0h w0w im five away fr0m a hundred
It's not your best.