#voxfanta

[isolaradiale]

some life stuff's come up so i'm putting my boy pete on hiatus. the date is 1/12/23. <3 excited to come back when things feel better, thank you!

Placed on hiatus for you!

– ⋆ canopus.

[isolaradiale]

hi, i'd like to send in a reserve for Duck Newton from "The Adventure Zone: Amnesty," please! can be found @thatlich on Twitter!

Reserved!

– ⋆ taygeta.

[mvrderbot]

@voxfanta​ // event sc.

       in retrospect, it should have considered firing its guns at the encroaching vegetation overkill. but the plantlife was far too similar to the agricultural growth-infection it had seen in that forgotten colony for murderbot to not be cautious of it, especially when it was able to access multiple reports coming in of unusual effects of the flowers’ spores. it hadn’t breathed in any or touched any, as far as it was able to discern - keeping its oxygen consumption to a minimum with its’ visor down and firing from a distance.

       “ ...well. shit. ” murderbot mumbled in exasperation, sending one of its tiny drones to inspect the plants. its weapons hadn’t even scratched any of the flowers. all it had done was stir up more of the pollen - and draw the attention of a nearby human, apparently. it lifted its’ visor to glare at the man. “ the vegetation is potentially dangerous. please do not approach it. ” that sounded authoritative and knowledgeable - right? way more than it actually knew about what was going on, which was next-to-nothing.

       “ i don’t need a- ” it fell quiet abruptly as its performance reliability dropped by three whole percent, and it registered an uneasy sensation; not quite pain, but definitely difficulty in stating that it didn’t need any help from any fragile and likely-to-get-hurt humans. it paused, trying to re-word the sentence. “ ... i don’t want any help. ” that made it all kinds of uncomfortable to admit ( it felt more personal ).

[eusyram]

24 for the setting prompts >:3

𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺  | 24.  an underground / illegal fighting club

In between all the midway games, junk food, and boardwalk rides, Mary Sue and Pete eventually wander off the beaten track and into the pulsating heart of Golden during its after hours: Crimson Lane. The nondescript building with the red velvet curtains over its door should’ve raised alarms on any normal night, but Mary Sue was an airhead and Pete already dead-tired, so both of them entered blissfully oblivious.

“Hmm...this isn’t the cozy romantic cafe I was expecting,” Mary Sue finally mutters after they’ve gone down a flight of stairs, past two secret doors, and through a fake hallway and its connecting corridor into what looks like a fully fleshed underground stadium.

By her side, Pete suddenly shifts and looks alert, hand clutching towards something at his hip before aborting the movement midway. His breathing relaxes instead: forced at first, then more naturally. “Right, then let’s leave.”

Instincts were telling him that staying here would only mean trouble. But Mary Sue doesn’t seem to hear him, drawn to the sudden cheers that come from the center of the room as its center stage—a boxing ring—lights up with a metallic clang of the bell.

“Hey uh, you,” He still hadn’t caught her name yet, or her his, in the chaos that was today. “I don’t think we should—”

“I know what this is!” Mary Sue suddenly exclaims and makes a beeline for the stage. “Oh my gosh, it’s been ages!”

And she slips from his grasp to glide gossamer-like towards the heart of the chaos. Her furry pink hooded cloak and long vibrant hair are already an anachronism in the packed, tense club; the image of her weaving past cheering fans anticipating the next boxing match looks even more unreal to his eyes.

But it has to be, because he’s sober; painfully so in fact, as he blinks back the pinching dryness of his eyes and dives into the crowd after her. “Wait—!”

It’s like trying to navigate a drunken sea. While Mary Sue sails the waves like a pro, he’s pushed back every few steps. By the time he makes it to the front, Mary Sue’s already clambered into the ring and taken center-stage.

“What’s a rave club without a DJ! Geez, you guys don’t even have a station for one, that’s lame!”

“But don’t worry, I’ve got portable speakers with my phone!”

The two boxers prepared to duke it out on the ring exchanged confused looks. Security soon joins them, and Pete mentally wonders how many people he can hold off and get them out in one piece with just “Detect Magic” on his hands when music starts blasting in the air.

♪ AY AY AY I’M YOUR LITTLE BUTTERFLY                  GREEN, BLACK, AND BLUE                                     MAKE THE COLORS IN THE SKY~ ♪

Someone lunges at Mary Sue, but she DDR-steps deftly out of the way. Pete catches two more tryhards by their ankles from the audience, and the rest of the threats collapse in a tumbling heap.

“Oh, there you are!” Mary Sue notices Pete in the aftermatch of the human pile and reaches out a hand. “Come on, dance with me!”

“I don’t really—”

“It’s fine, it’s all about feeling the music!” she says, pausing to hi-kick another guy out of the ring before he gets her. Good thing she lived through so many spy stories in the past! “Besides, what’s a butterfly without her samurai?”

Another guy makes to grab for her wrist. This time, Pete steps up and deftly shoves him out of the way. To his surprise, a cheer breaks out—looks like the crowd finds this just as entertaining as the original fights.

Mary Sue’s hand finds his wrist and skillfully pulls him to an open area free of bodies. The audience members help out by dragging the poor unconscious victims off the ring.

“Do you know, I’ve done DDR, ballroom dancing, and ballet?” she says breathlessly. “What do you think they’ll say if I combine all three at once?”

It sounds ridiculous. But as “Butterfly” switches to “Dam Dariram,” he finds himself swept up in the rhythm anyways.

[eusyram]

"what now? i'm tired."

200 Random Dialogue Prompts

“Aw come on, we haven’t even tried out the ferris wheel yet!”

“You can’t say you’ve been to the amusement park unless you’ve ridden one of those!”

Mary Sue has a big cloud of cotton candy in one hand, Pete’s hat neatly resting over her own, and one hand tugging firmly at his jacket. Around them swarm tourists and park guests, a mixture of citizens and outsiders both, while the clear skies glitter with the shine of summer stars.

“Besides, you’ll sleep better if you’re 100% exhausted. So let’s go!”

She counts it as a win when he doesn’t pry her fingers off his clothes.

[eusyram]

tweet????? curious and afraid

SEND “TWEET!” TO SEE A TWEET MY MUSE HAS MADE ABOUT YOURS.

[gethghosted]

@voxfanta​

        this human seemed to be very distressed over the contents of a paper note; in the past five minutes, they’d watched him read it over and over again multiple times. when he seemed to grow frustrated with the note and crumpled it into a ball, ghost interpreted it as him discarding it. they inched closer, down the alley wall to grab the crumpled paper when the man turned his back. they began to carefully unwrap it - but froze as the human seemed to rethink throwing the paper away. did he want it back? ghost remained frozen - unsure of what to do in this situation. several mechanical stuttering and chittering noises erupted from them in their alarm as their eye darted between their hand and the note.

[godseyed]

@voxfanta

How long had that dude been standing there looking into the distance with that spaced out glaze to his eyes? Long enough for Leonardo to have noticed, at least. He didn’t like butting into people’s business when he didn’t have to, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit concerned. So he kind of just stood there too.

“So. What are we looking at?”

He couldn’t see anything noteworthy. The irony was not lost on him.