[whatever sharon was doing gets interrupted by something bizarre. or at least it doesn't seem strange for the first few seconds, as she hears someone singing.
the voice is familiar, but if there's a rare probability that she is questioning who it belong to, she will spot jinx dancing to her own song. it's a... strange way to dance but at least she is in better spirits? it's hard to tell, really. ]
the voice is familiar, but if there's a rare probability that she is questioning who it belong to, she will spot jinx dancing to her own song. it's a... strange way to dance but at least she is in better spirits? it's hard to tell, really. ]
[ It's like a new frequency tunes in, and Sharon stills, holding the mask a little more tightly to her face as if that would strengthen whatever connection is being formed. And then—singing. A familiar voice, a familiar face.
There's a spark of joy, hot and bright, as she recognizes Jinx. The other will get flashes of a notebook, the lines of the pages filled with Sharon's sharp, angled writing. It's hard to make out the words, but sketches of faces line the margins. There are some faces she might recognize, but hers is the one that comes in most clearly. ]
Dancer, singer, and demolition diva. [ The words appear in her angled writing, tilted, messy, but readable. ] What can't you do?
There's a spark of joy, hot and bright, as she recognizes Jinx. The other will get flashes of a notebook, the lines of the pages filled with Sharon's sharp, angled writing. It's hard to make out the words, but sketches of faces line the margins. There are some faces she might recognize, but hers is the one that comes in most clearly. ]
Dancer, singer, and demolition diva. [ The words appear in her angled writing, tilted, messy, but readable. ] What can't you do?
[ The past few days have been overcast and windy, gusts making the older window panes rattle. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground, barely enough to leave a shoe print in, let alone make it hard to travel through. But, between the freeze and the wind, he hasn't set serious foot outside in at least a few days. It makes him feel cooped up, his usual inability to handle idleness mixed in with the restlessness that's been flaring under his skin in small jolts.
Today, though, the weak winter sun is peeking through a haze of clouds and there's no wind. While it isn't warm, it's pleasant enough to be out in for a decent amount of time. Which he intends to do, a plan forming.
Poking his head into the study, he finds Sharon cozied up in one of the squashy armchairs. ]
Feel up for some target practice?
Today, though, the weak winter sun is peeking through a haze of clouds and there's no wind. While it isn't warm, it's pleasant enough to be out in for a decent amount of time. Which he intends to do, a plan forming.
Poking his head into the study, he finds Sharon cozied up in one of the squashy armchairs. ]
Feel up for some target practice?
[ She perks up at the question, a quick grin tugging at her lips. With the cold keeping them holed up, sheβs spent the past few days buried in books—sketching, journaling, reading—just trying to keep her mind busy. ]
Hell yeah. [ She's already shedding the blanket as she gets to her feet, dropping her journal and pencil onto the growing pile of worn books and papers. Like him, sheβs been on edge. Restless. And after weeks of this, itβs hard not to feel like she should be doing something. ]
Been thinking about going outside anyway. [ she adds as she grab her coat, gloves still tucked in the pockets. The idea of freezing doesnβt bother her. Not right now. She just needs to move. ] Even just to retread places we've already searched.
Hell yeah. [ She's already shedding the blanket as she gets to her feet, dropping her journal and pencil onto the growing pile of worn books and papers. Like him, sheβs been on edge. Restless. And after weeks of this, itβs hard not to feel like she should be doing something. ]
Been thinking about going outside anyway. [ she adds as she grab her coat, gloves still tucked in the pockets. The idea of freezing doesnβt bother her. Not right now. She just needs to move. ] Even just to retread places we've already searched.
[ the next time sharon puts on her mask, or perhaps gets the feeling to pick it up like a ringing phone, she'll get— a feeling, like someone has knocked on her door, thought twice about being a little louder, then left. ]
Sharon?
[ and that's it. jayce did not feel welcomed enough to intrude or even insist. ]
Sharon?
[ and that's it. jayce did not feel welcomed enough to intrude or even insist. ]
[ it's such a strange feeling, like he's trying not to intrude. she finds herself appreciating it. that sense of consideration. ]
Everything okay, Jayce? [ his connection is recognizable, instantly familiar in how he tries to make himself smaller—to be less imposing than he could be. ]
Everything okay, Jayce? [ his connection is recognizable, instantly familiar in how he tries to make himself smaller—to be less imposing than he could be. ]
Sharon!
[Kalmiya greets her with the enthusiasm of a dog whose person has come home unexpectedly early from work, wiggles and all. At...what she hopes is a decent time of day, but that's sort of hard to discern when the concepts of both day and time have gotten so loose.]
You're friends with Arthur, right?
[Kalmiya greets her with the enthusiasm of a dog whose person has come home unexpectedly early from work, wiggles and all. At...what she hopes is a decent time of day, but that's sort of hard to discern when the concepts of both day and time have gotten so loose.]
You're friends with Arthur, right?
[ There is something so positively overwhelming about the way Kalmiya greets her—excitable in a way that almost feels good. It pulls an immediate grin from her. ]
I mean... for lack of a better word, yeah. [ She knows for a fact that is not the word Arthur used. ] Why? [ A hint of playful suspicion. ] Did he do something stupid?
[ Is she already willing to say something on Kalmiya's behalf? Yes. Yes, she is. Congratulations, girl. ]
I mean... for lack of a better word, yeah. [ She knows for a fact that is not the word Arthur used. ] Why? [ A hint of playful suspicion. ] Did he do something stupid?
[ Is she already willing to say something on Kalmiya's behalf? Yes. Yes, she is. Congratulations, girl. ]
[ There's a deep, pulsing ache that comes from her end of the Murmur, but there's an additional hint of surprised appreciation at the sound of Toki's voice. ]
I mean—I'm alive now, but I'm pretty sure it killed me last night. [ Not pretty sure. She's confident it did. ] You—you got away, right?
I mean—I'm alive now, but I'm pretty sure it killed me last night. [ Not pretty sure. She's confident it did. ] You—you got away, right?
[It's vague and hard to make out but with some effort a voice can heard whispering across tethered connection between Sharon and Ash. It's a low gravely voice that certainly isn't something Ash could mimic.]
Let them all die, child, so all of us can live...
Let them all die, child, so all of us can live...
Edited 2025-10-01 18:56 (UTC)
[it's only been an hour since her conversation with sharon, even though it feels longer without any real concept of time on their side. and as promised, she is making her way to the townhouse, her gaze lingering at the building while she chews on her lower lip. 'this is stupid', she thinks, contemplating just telling sharon she feels all better now and dipping off elsewhere. except the problem is, her friend can already hear her "this is stupid" comment and is possibly on her way to the door.
her nails comb through her locks with a sigh, then she kicks a rusted can out of her walkway as she paces onward. when she's at the door, she doesn't knock... probably doesn't need to; her side of the thread is fluttering with nerves for so many different reasons balled into one big cluck. it'd be silly to notice it. it'll take her (them) hours just to smooth it out, and she exhales an exasperating sigh about that, too. because here she is again... causing trouble, being more work than helpful. another kick to the dirt, and jinx shoves her fists in her pockets with her head tilting back and nose in the air.]
... Fuck.
her nails comb through her locks with a sigh, then she kicks a rusted can out of her walkway as she paces onward. when she's at the door, she doesn't knock... probably doesn't need to; her side of the thread is fluttering with nerves for so many different reasons balled into one big cluck. it'd be silly to notice it. it'll take her (them) hours just to smooth it out, and she exhales an exasperating sigh about that, too. because here she is again... causing trouble, being more work than helpful. another kick to the dirt, and jinx shoves her fists in her pockets with her head tilting back and nose in the air.]
... Fuck.
[ Sharon pays close attention to the tether between them as she waits. The closer Jinx draws, the sharper that awareness becomes. A faint thought flickers through from the other end: this is stupid. Sharon exhales softly, her lips twitching. She doesn't think it's stupid to need someone. Everyone does. To be held, to be seen, to feel safe... It's human.
She opens the door just as the other girl reaches it, leaning casually against the frame. Her gray pajamas are loose and smeared with dried paint in uneven streaks and spatters, her hair a frizzy halo of bleach blonde. The scent of smoke and paint cling faintly to her skin. ]
It's not stupid. [ Sharon says quietly, reaching to tug her inside, leading her toward the stairs. ] It's normal.
[ Her room is a bit of a mess. The bed is piled with blankets and pillows and looks like it's never once been made. True to her word, no weapons are visible, though there's a knife beneath the mattress and a baseball bat hidden in the closet. An easel stands off to the side with a painting still damp and red. A nearby desk is crowded with paint-stained glasses, brushes, and palettes, their colors hardened into tiny mountains.
There's a pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper in one corner—she's no Kobe!—and a plush chair covered in uneven stacks of books in another. Only the nightstand seems spared from the mess, and on it rests a single flickering candle, a worn sketchbook, and her golden mask. As she closes the bedroom door behind them, she says: ] Welcome to chez Sharon. [ Look, she knows a French word. ] Maybe I should've done a blanket fort instead of a... [ She glances at the pile.
Well.
It's comfy, at least. ]
She opens the door just as the other girl reaches it, leaning casually against the frame. Her gray pajamas are loose and smeared with dried paint in uneven streaks and spatters, her hair a frizzy halo of bleach blonde. The scent of smoke and paint cling faintly to her skin. ]
It's not stupid. [ Sharon says quietly, reaching to tug her inside, leading her toward the stairs. ] It's normal.
[ Her room is a bit of a mess. The bed is piled with blankets and pillows and looks like it's never once been made. True to her word, no weapons are visible, though there's a knife beneath the mattress and a baseball bat hidden in the closet. An easel stands off to the side with a painting still damp and red. A nearby desk is crowded with paint-stained glasses, brushes, and palettes, their colors hardened into tiny mountains.
There's a pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper in one corner—she's no Kobe!—and a plush chair covered in uneven stacks of books in another. Only the nightstand seems spared from the mess, and on it rests a single flickering candle, a worn sketchbook, and her golden mask. As she closes the bedroom door behind them, she says: ] Welcome to chez Sharon. [ Look, she knows a French word. ] Maybe I should've done a blanket fort instead of a... [ She glances at the pile.
Well.
It's comfy, at least. ]
Hey.
This might sound crazy.
But I kind of organized a group to go into the subway.
...And it turns out it wasn't really a total waste of effort this time around.
This might sound crazy.
But I kind of organized a group to go into the subway.
...And it turns out it wasn't really a total waste of effort this time around.
( And perkily, at six ante-meridiem, with the brimming pep in the Murmur's step that only the Murmur can deliver: )
Good morning.
Good morning.
[ Now awake and armed with a name to put to the weapon in his possession, it doesn't take Subaru long to locate who he's looking for in the Murmur. Or so he hopes. It comes as a polite, flinty spark of light, not overly warm and meant more as a mark of attention: ]
Is this Sharon?
Is this Sharon?
Lortel. [ Her name falls from Sharon's lips like a sigh of relief. A faint ache wavers from her end of the connection. ]
I didn't go underground, so I missed the big one, but I did get into my own mess. The Hosts were aggressive as hell trying to protect the Runes we needed to free. [ A beat, and then: ] That thing didn't fuck you up too badly, did it?
[ From what she saw from Yuuto's perspective, that was... insane. ]
I didn't go underground, so I missed the big one, but I did get into my own mess. The Hosts were aggressive as hell trying to protect the Runes we needed to free. [ A beat, and then: ] That thing didn't fuck you up too badly, did it?
[ From what she saw from Yuuto's perspective, that was... insane. ]
[ who knows where sharon has been on this day, out doing sharon things. but whenever she decides to come in her room, there will be a small thing sitting on her bed that wasn't there before.
if she looks closer, there's a small charm with a slim piece of paper folded underneath. there is something written on it; english not this writer's language, but it's straight to the point. it reads: ]
Found the problem. Told you I'd fix it. You're free now. - JINX.
if she looks closer, there's a small charm with a slim piece of paper folded underneath. there is something written on it; english not this writer's language, but it's straight to the point. it reads: ]
Found the problem. Told you I'd fix it. You're free now. - JINX.
Edited 2026-01-26 04:35 (UTC)
[ not all that long after this, incidentally!!! ]
If, ah, you were trying to think of a good spot for a ... a date, in this awful city ... where do you think one might ... go?
[ it is not AT ALL like her to stutter.
help. sharon wan kenobi you are her only hope ]
If, ah, you were trying to think of a good spot for a ... a date, in this awful city ... where do you think one might ... go?
[ it is not AT ALL like her to stutter.
help. sharon wan kenobi you are her only hope ]
[ her smile is immediately obvious through the murmur, practically beaming. ]
Depends on what you want to do. Or what... they like. [ is it megumi? she hopes it is. ] Can't say there's a wealth of date night spots these days, but I've found a working arcade if either of you wants to bond over a couple of games. Or you could whip up a picnic basket, take him—them to the park. [ trying not to make assumptions ] There's a couple of fun museums, too, if that's more your speed.
Depends on what you want to do. Or what... they like. [ is it megumi? she hopes it is. ] Can't say there's a wealth of date night spots these days, but I've found a working arcade if either of you wants to bond over a couple of games. Or you could whip up a picnic basket, take him—them to the park. [ trying not to make assumptions ] There's a couple of fun museums, too, if that's more your speed.
[Her place. She really had never planned to make this a long-term residenceβor to have a long-term residence here at all. It's not in her nature to sit still in dangerous circumstances. Even now, there's a part of her that's ready to bolt the moment this place is compromised (the same part which has already decided what she'll grab first, the same part that rarely bothered to say goodbye when leaving a town behind.)
But this place is more than just her place. Somehow this overgrown little den became a place for others, too. When people wanted companionship, or understanding, or safety, they so often ended up here.
Kalmiya doesn't entirely understand it. But she can't bear the idea of taking that away.
So: her place. It will be far from the first time Sharon visits, though the context of this visit is very different from the rest. To say Kalmiya is nervous isn't exactly correct; it's more that she is very keenly aware that this could change things, potentially for the worse. At the time of most of her first dalliances with people here, their relationships were barely formedβthere was plenty of room to shape them to fit this kind of intimacy.
It's a little different with someone like Sharon. Kalmiya already knows her, loves her, wants nothing more than to give her a place where she feels safe and understood. And there is a nonzero chance that things entirely out of Kalmiya's control could turn this into an unsafe experience for Sharon. Which Kalmiya is prepared for, which she will cushion as much as she's able to in such an unfortunate turn of events, butβ
Above all, Sharon is her friend. Kalmiya never wants to be the source of a painful memory for her.
She decides to forego anything fancyβthis isn't a date, after all, or if it is she was never made awareβbut she does make the bed. Puts on clean sheets and blankets, a few extra pillows. Makes sure there's at least one reasonably clean bath towel hanging up. And very pointedly meditates on her tether with Sharon until the others quiet down a little. Closest thing to privacy that she can offer.
She's in little but an oversized pink sweater and fuzzy thigh-high socks when she answers the door for her guest, tails wagging in reflection of the bright grin on her face. She gestures Sharon in with a dramatic sweep of her arm.] Make yourself comfortable! You know where everything is.
But this place is more than just her place. Somehow this overgrown little den became a place for others, too. When people wanted companionship, or understanding, or safety, they so often ended up here.
Kalmiya doesn't entirely understand it. But she can't bear the idea of taking that away.
So: her place. It will be far from the first time Sharon visits, though the context of this visit is very different from the rest. To say Kalmiya is nervous isn't exactly correct; it's more that she is very keenly aware that this could change things, potentially for the worse. At the time of most of her first dalliances with people here, their relationships were barely formedβthere was plenty of room to shape them to fit this kind of intimacy.
It's a little different with someone like Sharon. Kalmiya already knows her, loves her, wants nothing more than to give her a place where she feels safe and understood. And there is a nonzero chance that things entirely out of Kalmiya's control could turn this into an unsafe experience for Sharon. Which Kalmiya is prepared for, which she will cushion as much as she's able to in such an unfortunate turn of events, butβ
Above all, Sharon is her friend. Kalmiya never wants to be the source of a painful memory for her.
She decides to forego anything fancyβthis isn't a date, after all, or if it is she was never made awareβbut she does make the bed. Puts on clean sheets and blankets, a few extra pillows. Makes sure there's at least one reasonably clean bath towel hanging up. And very pointedly meditates on her tether with Sharon until the others quiet down a little. Closest thing to privacy that she can offer.
She's in little but an oversized pink sweater and fuzzy thigh-high socks when she answers the door for her guest, tails wagging in reflection of the bright grin on her face. She gestures Sharon in with a dramatic sweep of her arm.] Make yourself comfortable! You know where everything is.
[ Sharon laughs outright when Kalmiya sweeps her arm. She pauses to admire her for a beat, but there isn't much lechery in the look, even if the glimpse of skin between the pink sweater and thigh-high socks triggers a light, curious hunger. It's cute. It's Kalmiya. It makes her want to see more. ] Practically another home for me. [ She says lightly, amusement singing through the tether, along with a low lying anxiety. She slips her shoes off at the door, unwilling to track dirt, grime, or any potential Sleep-fungal biohazard deeper into Kalmiya's den.
Her relationship with Kalmiya is precious, something Sharon holds close. It's never felt awkward or strained, never edged with tension. It's always felt natural, even when Sharon couldn't quite follow Kalmiya's exuberant rhythms. The easy honesty. The gentle certainty of her hands when they curl together.
Sharon drops onto the bed and speaks with measured, careful sincerity, eyes fixed on Kalmiya's soft, heart-shaped face. This has been on her mind since she'd started the trek here. ] This... won't mess things up between us, will it? I love you, but I don't want to complicate our friendship, no matter how much I know I'd enjoy it.
[ She won't make that mistake again. Better to ask, to be upfront, than to hurt someone she loves, no matter how unintentionally. She knows Kalmiya enjoys sex, is open with it, but they already matter to each other. Some small, anxious part of her is afraid this could end the same way it did with Jinx. ] The last thing I really want to do is hurt you.
Her relationship with Kalmiya is precious, something Sharon holds close. It's never felt awkward or strained, never edged with tension. It's always felt natural, even when Sharon couldn't quite follow Kalmiya's exuberant rhythms. The easy honesty. The gentle certainty of her hands when they curl together.
Sharon drops onto the bed and speaks with measured, careful sincerity, eyes fixed on Kalmiya's soft, heart-shaped face. This has been on her mind since she'd started the trek here. ] This... won't mess things up between us, will it? I love you, but I don't want to complicate our friendship, no matter how much I know I'd enjoy it.
[ She won't make that mistake again. Better to ask, to be upfront, than to hurt someone she loves, no matter how unintentionally. She knows Kalmiya enjoys sex, is open with it, but they already matter to each other. Some small, anxious part of her is afraid this could end the same way it did with Jinx. ] The last thing I really want to do is hurt you.
[ Whenever Sharon wanders down into the kitchen, she'll find a neat little present sitting on the table, meticulously wrapped in kraft paper and red ribbon. The name tag clearly shows her as the recipient and judging from the penmanship, there's little doubt who it's from.
After she opens it, she'll find a set of three computer mice nestled amongst the tissue paper, along with a postcard sized piece of ivory cardstock. On it is a short note and instructions on how to use the re-appropriated electronics. ]
Sharonβthese don't bounce too well, but they're great for throwing. There are two modes on each: explosive and a laser flare. Flip the power switch on, two clicks for a light show, three to prime it to detonate. You'll have a 4.25 second delay before either one goes off, if airborne. They're both set for a 1.5s delay if they impact something. Effective radius is about 16ft. If you used one as a flare and can retrieve it, there should be enough juice to reuse it as a grenade.
You know where to find me for questions.
A.
After she opens it, she'll find a set of three computer mice nestled amongst the tissue paper, along with a postcard sized piece of ivory cardstock. On it is a short note and instructions on how to use the re-appropriated electronics. ]
Sharonβthese don't bounce too well, but they're great for throwing. There are two modes on each: explosive and a laser flare. Flip the power switch on, two clicks for a light show, three to prime it to detonate. You'll have a 4.25 second delay before either one goes off, if airborne. They're both set for a 1.5s delay if they impact something. Effective radius is about 16ft. If you used one as a flare and can retrieve it, there should be enough juice to reuse it as a grenade.
You know where to find me for questions.
A.
( Guess. Who. On the dream murmur — )
Pretty dress. ( A beat. ) It doesn't suit you. ( And another, from your favourite stalker — ) I trust it hasn't been getting in the way of hasty retreats.
Pretty dress. ( A beat. ) It doesn't suit you. ( And another, from your favourite stalker — ) I trust it hasn't been getting in the way of hasty retreats.
( Hell hath no fury like a young woman scorned, struck in the darkest kernel of her abyssally black heart, insulted in the dignity of her powder-food prep prowess. Truly, Sakurazuka Seishirou has misstepped in this particular venture, and so he presents himself, an emissary of good will, bearing the gifts of his diplomatic courtship: three hefty spawns of Kraft abomination, radioactively yellow in their cardboard presentation. They jiggle jiggle with worrying, crystalline sonority, like a timed bomb waiting to speedtrack an exit out of the human era.
The pale morning's balmy, dank like a drain, itching for spring showers. It'll be heavy, he supposes, when summer lands — on the lungs. But the sleeping Manhattan holds back some of its charms, and he cuts his way through the calamitous rows of postcard-pretty townhouses to arrive at Sharon's destination without:
1. a sweat
2. substantial damage to his Kraft-cursed possessions
3. an actual invitation.
He anticipates, by the time he graces Sharon with a polite READY OR NOT, HERE I COME through the certainly not violating, abusive or otherwise horrifying telepathic network, that she'll rise and shine to open up the door. And so, of course he spares her the effort, ruthlessly jimmying it loose. It's nearly an hour after sunrise, of course she'll be only so happy and grateful for guests. )
Good — morning! ( Clink of his shoes, scratching the floor, uninvited. He unheels them, still a son of Japan. ) Thank you for having me!
( No one asked you, Seishirou. )
The pale morning's balmy, dank like a drain, itching for spring showers. It'll be heavy, he supposes, when summer lands — on the lungs. But the sleeping Manhattan holds back some of its charms, and he cuts his way through the calamitous rows of postcard-pretty townhouses to arrive at Sharon's destination without:
1. a sweat
2. substantial damage to his Kraft-cursed possessions
3. an actual invitation.
He anticipates, by the time he graces Sharon with a polite READY OR NOT, HERE I COME through the certainly not violating, abusive or otherwise horrifying telepathic network, that she'll rise and shine to open up the door. And so, of course he spares her the effort, ruthlessly jimmying it loose. It's nearly an hour after sunrise, of course she'll be only so happy and grateful for guests. )
Good — morning! ( Clink of his shoes, scratching the floor, uninvited. He unheels them, still a son of Japan. ) Thank you for having me!
( No one asked you, Seishirou. )
[ Ready or not, here I come.
That might be the most ominous thing Sharon has ever had come through the Murmur—no context, no warning, just... that. It leaves a tight, restless edge under her skin, sharpened by the lack of sleep she's been running on thanks to the Sundowning. Still, she assumes he'll knock when he gets there—if he's actually coming.
He doesn't.
She misses the faint scrape of the lock being forced, only realizing he's inside when his voice echoes up through the hollow, three-story building. She's moving in seconds, taking the stairs two at a time, bare feet slapping against freshly mopped floors. She's still in her pajamas, soft gray, splattered with paint that's long since stopped pretending to be accidental. ]
What the hell, Seishirou? [ She hisses, blue eyes shadowed with that sleep-starved violet, arms folding tight across her chest. Her bleached hair is a frizzed mess, barely tamed. ] Most people knock before they come in, dickbag.
[ Hell, most people ask if she even wants company—never mind that she doesn't exactly extend the same courtesy. Then she spots the boxes. Bright blue. Familiar. ] Did... did you bring me macaroni and cheese? [ Her voice softens, confusion slipping in around the edges. Sir, what the hell is she supposed to do with you? ]
That might be the most ominous thing Sharon has ever had come through the Murmur—no context, no warning, just... that. It leaves a tight, restless edge under her skin, sharpened by the lack of sleep she's been running on thanks to the Sundowning. Still, she assumes he'll knock when he gets there—if he's actually coming.
He doesn't.
She misses the faint scrape of the lock being forced, only realizing he's inside when his voice echoes up through the hollow, three-story building. She's moving in seconds, taking the stairs two at a time, bare feet slapping against freshly mopped floors. She's still in her pajamas, soft gray, splattered with paint that's long since stopped pretending to be accidental. ]
What the hell, Seishirou? [ She hisses, blue eyes shadowed with that sleep-starved violet, arms folding tight across her chest. Her bleached hair is a frizzed mess, barely tamed. ] Most people knock before they come in, dickbag.
[ Hell, most people ask if she even wants company—never mind that she doesn't exactly extend the same courtesy. Then she spots the boxes. Bright blue. Familiar. ] Did... did you bring me macaroni and cheese? [ Her voice softens, confusion slipping in around the edges. Sir, what the hell is she supposed to do with you? ]
[ It takes some time after this conversation, since Caelus had to prepare first before heading over. Once ready, he does his best to recall the paths he walked through with Sharon back when they first met. It's been a while, but he remembers pretty well. He doesn't get lost on the way and makes it to the front door smoothly.
He used a skateboard all the way here, so he gets off it once he arrives. He picks it up before knocking, waiting patiently right after. As he waits, he decides to look around his surroundings. He didn't get much of a chance to observe the area here previously, so he's quite curious. He wonders if Sharon has any neighbors nearby? ]
He used a skateboard all the way here, so he gets off it once he arrives. He picks it up before knocking, waiting patiently right after. As he waits, he decides to look around his surroundings. He didn't get much of a chance to observe the area here previously, so he's quite curious. He wonders if Sharon has any neighbors nearby? ]
[ The row of three connected houses looks like it's had some life in it, well-kept, tidy, and cared for compared to the surrounding townhouses, but it's hard to tell if anyone actually lives next door.
Sharon peeks through the side window, the curtains shifting in the soft light, then swings the door open with a grin. Violet rims her blue eyes, a sharp mark of sleep deprivation, and her complexion is off, but she still looks far better than the last time she'd died in the dream. ]
Caelus, hey. [ She says, stepping aside to let him in. Inside, the townhouse is neat and orderly; a cluster of shoes and jackets by the door hints she shares the space with at least one other person. She guides him toward the kitchen. ] Come on in. Want some tea? I almost always have hot water ready.
[ It's one of the few rituals she keeps without fail, a small constant in her otherwise unpredictable life. ]
Sharon peeks through the side window, the curtains shifting in the soft light, then swings the door open with a grin. Violet rims her blue eyes, a sharp mark of sleep deprivation, and her complexion is off, but she still looks far better than the last time she'd died in the dream. ]
Caelus, hey. [ She says, stepping aside to let him in. Inside, the townhouse is neat and orderly; a cluster of shoes and jackets by the door hints she shares the space with at least one other person. She guides him toward the kitchen. ] Come on in. Want some tea? I almost always have hot water ready.
[ It's one of the few rituals she keeps without fail, a small constant in her otherwise unpredictable life. ]
Sharon,
Just how long is this crap going to last anyway? I enjoy having my blood pumping just as much as the next guy, but what's the point if I can't let it out? Yeah, yeah, go squabble with the Uglies; I get it. But I want to do something bigger, something louder. Like hand someone an explosive cake, a landmine mouse trap, Just blow up a building, but without burning someone to a crisp this time.
Not that it happened. No. No, it definitely didn't happen. Whatever. I hate that you're making me miss you, you know? Missing your stupid eyes and your stupid lips and your laugh. I should get you back for this. I'm going to waitunlit until you leave your room, sneak in, and rearrange everything. That'll show you for making me love you so much. Better snap some photos, Touch n' Feels, because I'm about to make your day super fun β‘ !
Love,
X.
Just how long is this crap going to last anyway? I enjoy having my blood pumping just as much as the next guy, but what's the point if I can't let it out? Yeah, yeah, go squabble with the Uglies; I get it. But I want to do something bigger, something louder. Like hand someone an explosive cake, a landmine mouse trap, Just blow up a building, but without burning someone to a crisp this time.
Not that it happened. No. No, it definitely didn't happen. Whatever. I hate that you're making me miss you, you know? Missing your stupid eyes and your stupid lips and your laugh. I should get you back for this. I'm going to wait
Love,
X.
[ The letter comes on floral stationery, the envelope sealed with a cute puffy sticker. Her handwriting is a sharp, slanted mess in direct odds to the almost girlishness of the paper. ]
Hey, Bluebell
We're writing love letters now? Okay, I'm into it. A little high school, but it beats using the Murmur all the time especially with how it's been feeling on there these days. I'm gonna stuff every single one you give me into my sketch diary and treasure them. That means you'd better send me more!
Aww. You're missing me so bad you want to fuck up my curated space? I don't know if I'm offended or touched, but I will trap it. [ think plastic wrap in front of the doors and fishing wire at ankle height ] Just for you. ♥ Maybe that'll satisfy you. If you do break in, there will be a couple of presents on my pillow for you. Might help tide you over until shit sucks less.
Love,
SDS
PS: Don't touch the paintings! I'd hate to have to get into your place and steal your babies.
Hey, Bluebell
We're writing love letters now? Okay, I'm into it. A little high school, but it beats using the Murmur all the time especially with how it's been feeling on there these days. I'm gonna stuff every single one you give me into my sketch diary and treasure them. That means you'd better send me more!
Aww. You're missing me so bad you want to fuck up my curated space? I don't know if I'm offended or touched, but I will trap it. [ think plastic wrap in front of the doors and fishing wire at ankle height ] Just for you. ♥ Maybe that'll satisfy you. If you do break in, there will be a couple of presents on my pillow for you. Might help tide you over until shit sucks less.
Love,
SDS
PS: Don't touch the paintings! I'd hate to have to get into your place and steal your babies.
Edited 2026-05-01 23:23 (UTC)
[ Hi, Sharon. Have you ever felt a tether just--think about you? In a sort of way that's deliberate, but also not entirely committed. Maybe it's a newbie thing, the equivalent of somebody approaching where you are, but also seemingly half-hearted, unsure about knocking on your mind door. The door nearby, maybe close enough to knock on it, but a head turned, something else there.
Because Gorgug is thinking about Sharon, thinking about asking her something, but he is distracted--but also, constantly connected to the murmur.
Do you want to see if he knocks, or go ahead and open the metaphorical door for him? ]
Because Gorgug is thinking about Sharon, thinking about asking her something, but he is distracted--but also, constantly connected to the murmur.
Do you want to see if he knocks, or go ahead and open the metaphorical door for him? ]
[ This isn't unfamiliar territory for Sharon. She has more than a few Tethers, and most of them check in from time to time—just like she does. Gorgug's connection is newer, but she already knows the feel of it, recognizes him in the way it carries—uncertainty, distinct as a flicker of colored light.
She slips her mask on without hesitation, reaching more fully through the Murmur. Warmth follows, spreading gently through the bond, like a campfire at dusk, softly crackling. ] Everything good?
She slips her mask on without hesitation, reaching more fully through the Murmur. Warmth follows, spreading gently through the bond, like a campfire at dusk, softly crackling. ] Everything good?
You know, I've been meaning to tell you. [ her voice floats through warm and a little relieved. she'd hated keeping away from Sharon, in week two.
and last week, she was ... a little preoccupied, soβnow, finally, she reaches out to her closest friend for a long-due chat. ]
I went to see Jinx, a couple weeks ago, when things were going wrong with our tethers. It was ... nice. I think we might actually be friends now?
[ not something she'd ever normally make a question, but honestly, it surprises even her, still. ]
and last week, she was ... a little preoccupied, soβnow, finally, she reaches out to her closest friend for a long-due chat. ]
I went to see Jinx, a couple weeks ago, when things were going wrong with our tethers. It was ... nice. I think we might actually be friends now?
[ not something she'd ever normally make a question, but honestly, it surprises even her, still. ]
[ Lortel has Sharon's full attention, every bit of her curiosity plain through the Murmur. It sounds like positive news, and then—
Sharon lets out a bright, disbelieving laugh. ] Really? [ Delight rushes through her. It's almost embarrassingly satisfying, but she can't help it. She wants the people she cares about to get along. More than that, she wants her friends to like her girlfriend. And, admittedly... there's a smug little spark of triumph curling in her chest now. ] I knew it! I knew you two would eventually get along.
Sharon lets out a bright, disbelieving laugh. ] Really? [ Delight rushes through her. It's almost embarrassingly satisfying, but she can't help it. She wants the people she cares about to get along. More than that, she wants her friends to like her girlfriend. And, admittedly... there's a smug little spark of triumph curling in her chest now. ] I knew it! I knew you two would eventually get along.
If you use him against me again, I'll break every one of your dominant hand's phalanges.
Each of the fourteen. Then the metacarpals.
Then I might do the same to his.
Thank you ♥
( No introduction, no clarifications, no k n i f e. )
Each of the fourteen. Then the metacarpals.
Then I might do the same to his.
Thank you ♥
( No introduction, no clarifications, no k n i f e. )
you two keep going and ignore, jinx is just being nosy and looking at the girls' tether feels.
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opheliac
- 2026-06-01 20:50 (UTC) - Expand
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