#witching hour.

[testifiedtesticles]

Meanwhile, Damara is deliberately plagiarizing my brand for a persona. Hmm.

[testifiedtesticles]

Damara, Rohais, BGD.

This is an impossibly loaded ask. Add a please and I’ll consider my social suicide.

[testifiedtesticles]

HORSE!

[A blurry image of a horse, young and barely taller than a human child, is shared. Atop her dappled back is a puffed-out and demonic rendition of a cat.]

Horse.

[testifiedtesticles]

@kaeruatsume

— timaeusTestified has shared a VIDEO FILE —

The scene opens to a linoleum floor and one foot. TEST wiggles his toes at the camera for a second before the view changes, revealing a red-painted hand resting on the doorknob into his home’s pantry.

“Ready?”

JANE’s voice, bubbly and warm, chimes in, “Ready!”

The knob turns. The door clicks open. An ear-splitting scream can be heard before claws clack and grind into the tile so a black cat with nearly two thirds of his tail missing can careen over the kitchen threshold. TEST catches him slamming into a cabinet before JANE hastily shuts the pantry door.

POKI hits the door at full speed, and bounces back in a moment of stunned shock. Then, he whirls on TEST and takes a swipe, screaming feline profanities. JANE’s laughter is nearly drowned out.

— END VIDEO FILE —

[testifiedtesticles]

and then also 🎬but of the half "get out" half "handmaiden" unrated cult psychological thriller where test meets the parent (and all that entails) ♟🧠

A chartreuse sitting room. The wallpaper is immaculate, and eye-searing. Actors remarking on this scene, in future commentaries, will assure any listeners that has terrible as it was to see on-screen, it was a thousand times worse in person. All of the furniture follows a similar vein.

The only break in the monochrome of lime is TEST, dressed down to a pressed shirt with elbow-rolled sleeves and a fitted vest. His fingernails are dirty. He takes up the entire settee he inhabits, somehow managing to turn a minimal sitting arrangement into a pissing contest. He holds a cup of tea.

Across the table, closer to the viewer, is a massive armchair that takes up a solid third of the screen. A hand, bone-white, can be seen on the armrest. The suit is paler than his skin. SCRATCH hums and a clink can be heard.

SCRATCH: I understand that you have been meddling in my charge’s affairs. Seeing as we are but two sides of an enormous coin, host and guest, I took it upon myself to mitigate that.

TEST says nothing.

SCRATCH: The terrible influence I have been privy to, aftermath and personally observed, speaks highly of your intelligence. But we are not all blessed with wit as well as wile.

TEST: Get to the point.

SCRATCH: Crass, ungrateful, completely unaware of your position.

SCRATCH leans forward, but only his hand is in view. He’s close enough to lay a hand on TEST’s knee. There is no music. The silence rings.

SCRATCH: You will stop seeing her.

TEST: Well. I think we’ve made great progress here. You’ve proven, yet again, to be just as obtuse as I’d suspected. Now, if you’ll excuse me.

The silence rings. TEST pours his tea out on SCRATCH’s hand.

TEST: I have a date.

[testifiedtesticles]

🎬 but for test and AR >:)

It’s 4AM. A near-empty apartment. There are wide windows looking out over a rippling landscape of vehicles zipping by like life just won’t go on without the hustle. The room is largely unfurnished, save for a plywood-cinderblock coffeetable, an armchair with a faded flower pattern, and a faux leather couch.

In the armchair sits TEST, garbed in ratty old sleepwear that’s been stained by multiple layers of oil. His hair is unstyled. His fingers are steepled together under his chin, freshly bandaged.

Laying on the couch is CYON, gleaming at the joints in a soft teal. For modesty’s sake, he is in loose pajama pants.

TEST: So. What do you remember?

CYON opens his eyes, looking at the ceiling with a mild expression. His fans kick on for two seconds, and then all is still in the apartment.

CYON: I remember being in love with you.

[testifiedtesticles]

🎬

An empty classroom. In the center, surrounded by a sea of empty desks all pushed back to form a circle, stands DAMARA. She holds a small white handball. Her hair is down, hanging in her face. She is wearing a school uniform that cannot possibly be to code, baring 90% of her thighs.

She tips her head back slowly, revealing a smile so eeriely wide that nearly splits her face.

DAMARA: In zoo, they put only most dangerous beasts in big empty boxes. Am I exotic enough to make cut?

[testifiedtesticles]

HAL PLEASE ASK TEST WHY IS HE USING YOU AS THE TIMER WHEN I AM RIGHT HERE. THANK YOU.

He says

"Snooooooooooooooore..."

among other things.