dear_mun | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Really, Miss...Mun? Really?

I've tolerated the change of location. I've tolerated your insistent demand that we rehash my embarrassing school days. I even tolerated you changing my gender because you get some sick, mad kick out of it, but all of this talk about joining games? The line needs to be drawn.

Regardless of the fact that I have no interest in being part of any of these ridiculous settings you keep coming across--and don't even get me started on the class of people that flock to them, I can't really be expected to socialize with anyone of...that sad caliber-- you've already said enough that you don't have the time to keep up with them.

...And don't you dare say that you're only looking into them because you want me to have more friends because we both know that's a pile of dragonshit.

How about you do us both a favor and give up this foolish little whim of yours? If you really want something else to do with me, you could always get off your arse and focus on those unfinished stories you keep dragging your feet over.

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Well, it won't help. I don't want to get stuck in some horrible place where you're constantly subject to horrors and disasters.

I.

I won't be, Marcus. We won't be. I mean, I don't think these Muggles really care to put us in those situations.

[DON'T LOOK SO CONCERNED, ADRIEN, HE CAN'T TAKE IT.]

I certainly hope not. They are a bit wimpy.

[He can't help it!]

Bleeding hearts, the both of them.

...although, it has benefited us here and there.

Here and there. Having taken a bit of a look around, I would almost say we should be grateful.

[Waiting for the explosion in three... two... one...]

Grateful?

Have you seen some of the shit that goes on?

I mostly attribute our lives not being a living hell to them having half a brain between their ears, but I will not be grateful to some Muggle slag who thinks it's funny to give me my own set of tits.