welcome sleepies, to our very first meme saturday! every month a little mod-hosted meme will go up for us to play around with admist the chaos, and this theme was chosen by popular demand! we've all heard about texts from last night, but have you heard of......
MURMURS FROM LAST NIGHT
strange things happen in the night. maybe you drink, or dream, or get high as a kite, and it's hard to hide it! especially when we're all collectively connected in a way! the rules are quite simple! you may even know them by now.
π post a top level for your character and include a few text starters, like the ones provided.
π interact.
π thrive.
π if you wish for your threads to be game canon, the sky is the limit (just make sure your thread partner is okay with it!).
π We might have some special guests later.
i'm sure. well you know where to find me. the deal's still the same. information for information right?
[Listen, he may be 200 or so years old. That doesn't stop him from being his own brand of shit sometimes.]
?? ah ? why would i care? it's not like i can't find more. i may not be good silco, but i wouldn't be me if i didn't take care of what's mine. [It's a weird way to put it: mine. The sensation from his end isn't ownership, though. Not by any human standard anyway. It's protective in the vaguest sense of the word; like a reptile that'll bite anything that even thinks of coming too close to its den.]
don't think about it too hard. call it a favor. [It's obvious he's trying to brush aside the feeling. Another mask of nonchalance.] as for 'LΓΆrt, you might find he ends up being a lot more trouble than he's worth sometimes
He does look like trouble, but I've heard it said that people's pets tend to resemble their owners.
[Silco chooses not to comment on that odd impression. Something to think about. He's not certain he likes it, but he's not certain he dislikes it, either. It doesn't quite feel human, but if anything, that's somewhat reassuring. Silco knows exactly what to expect from most humans, and it's nothing good.
In any case, it's blanket permission to light up one of those cigs. Old as it might be, it's tobacco.]
I appreciate the favor, then. You ought to come join me, when you're free. We can have a little chat.
[In response, the note from his side is charmed, snarky. A scoff, more entertained than anything else.]
that right ? wouldn't know much myself. but i can't say i haven't run into my own kind of trouble from time to time. [Another understatement that he has no intention of explaining about in depth. That he can save for when they meet again.]
[After all, it's better (so much better) to do things face to face.]
[Greed tightens his mouth and as the split of his tongue touches the corner of his lip, he can practically taste the last time he had a cigarette; the lingering tobacco, now a faint, fading kiss.] got some time if you're up to it. just let me finish bringing all this in real quick.
[He takes a moment to flip a matchbox between his claws.]
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no subject
[Listen, he may be 200 or so years old. That doesn't stop him from being his own brand of shit sometimes.]
?? ah ? why would i care? it's not like i can't find more. i may not be good silco, but i wouldn't be me if i didn't take care of what's mine. [It's a weird way to put it: mine. The sensation from his end isn't ownership, though. Not by any human standard anyway. It's protective in the vaguest sense of the word; like a reptile that'll bite anything that even thinks of coming too close to its den.]
don't think about it too hard. call it a favor. [It's obvious he's trying to brush aside the feeling. Another mask of nonchalance.] as for 'LΓΆrt, you might find he ends up being a lot more trouble than he's worth sometimes
no subject
[Silco chooses not to comment on that odd impression. Something to think about. He's not certain he likes it, but he's not certain he dislikes it, either. It doesn't quite feel human, but if anything, that's somewhat reassuring. Silco knows exactly what to expect from most humans, and it's nothing good.
In any case, it's blanket permission to light up one of those cigs. Old as it might be, it's tobacco.]
I appreciate the favor, then. You ought to come join me, when you're free. We can have a little chat.
[Silco has a lot of questions.]
no subject
that right ? wouldn't know much myself. but i can't say i haven't run into my own kind of trouble from time to time. [Another understatement that he has no intention of explaining about in depth. That he can save for when they meet again.]
[After all, it's better (so much better) to do things face to face.]
[Greed tightens his mouth and as the split of his tongue touches the corner of his lip, he can practically taste the last time he had a cigarette; the lingering tobacco, now a faint, fading kiss.] got some time if you're up to it. just let me finish bringing all this in real quick.
[He takes a moment to flip a matchbox between his claws.]
the bar downstairs. see you then, silco