(no subject)

[sharingscars]

[His arms are crossed as he stares contemplatively for a moment, before his face cracks and he laughs a humorless laugh. His tone is light and amused, and maybe a tad bit bitter.]

Well, didn't think you'd have the balls to bring me out to "play" -- as you creepily put it. [He makes a grand gesture.] But here we are!

[His features are suddenly all business as he folds his arms again.]

Do me a favor though, my all powerful puppeteer. Don't let anyone touch me. I can only imagine the colorful memories floating around this place. And quite frankly, I'd like to keep it at imagining them.

[His hands now move to his pockets. He can't seem to stand still, can he?]

Gotta admit, though, there's a lot of interesting people here. I don't need memories to see that.


((ooc: so this guy can see memories, you should probably look at this just in case.))

Comments

[microwavelength]

Man, you're seriously whiny, dude.

[sharingscars]

[He cants his head to the side, brows knitted together. After a moment he chuckles slightly.]

Man, you're seriously wrong, dude.

[microwavelength]

How long have you been around? There's probably nothing you can say that will get your writer to lay off.

So yeah. You're whining right now.

[sharingscars]

How long? Uhh, lemme see... [He begins to count on his hand, only getting to one.] Ah, a day.

[He leans forward, hands folded under his chin.] How long have you been here?

[microwavelength]

[Doing the math makes him frown.]

Shit. Almost five years.

Well that's just great. Welcome to hell. Enjoy your stay. Hope your writer gets seriously bored with you, quick.

[sharingscars]

Five years, he says. [It's a little disconcerting that someone could be around for that long. It's not so bad here, but he had responsibilities and pesky unfinished business he really should take care of.

No use lamenting about it, though.]

And if you had to use one word to describe your five years of experience in this place, what would it be?

[He's a curious person.]

[microwavelength]

Boring.

[Luke just shrugs.]

I mean, it's actually pretty great when she remembers I exist, even if it gets fucked-up amazingly fast. But yeah, mostly boring. I'm not one of the favs anymore.

[sharingscars]

[He snorts.]

That's kind of depressing.

[microwavelength]

Yeah it seriously is. I wish I could melt her brain cells until she pays the fuck attention to me sometimes.

[sharingscars]

Unfortunately, melting her brain cells would just render her preeetty useless to you.

[microwavelength]

At least I'd stop being bored though, yanno?

But yeah, whatever.

What've you been doing, huh? Just...poking around? Yelling at your writer?

[sharingscars]

Fair enough.

[He can agree with that.]

I haven't really done anything yet. This is my first foray into the world of disgruntled playthings.

[Because let's face it, that's totally what they are.]

[microwavelength]

Gonna get dumped in some game then? Is your writer an asshole like mine?

[computage]

Hey. [ Tea's PERSON LOOKS SAD alarm goes off in her head. ] Are you okay?

[sharingscars]

[Ugh, no don't do that there's no sad here!

Scar's brows raise as his eyes dart from side to side as if checking to see if she had perhaps been talking to someone else.]

Uhhh, yeah?

[computage]

Oh. Okay. You just sound...bitter for some reason.

[sharingscars]

I was under the impression that was the default tone of everyone in this place. I was just trying to fit in.

[computage]

Well, you looked kinda down and I was just concerned is all.

[sharingscars]

Did I? Perhaps I should work on my happy face.

[Which is hard to do when your face is all scarred and bruised, but whatever. He's being sarcastic anyway!]

[computage]

Is that your happy face right now?

[ looks more like...plotting. ]

[sharingscars]

[Are they not the same thing..?]

Yes. That's how I look when I'm simply ecstatic.

[computage]

But you don't look ecstatic. You look like you're plotting my doom.

[sharingscars]

[He holds both hands up as he shakes his head, tone light.]

Whoa, whoa. I'm offended. Why do you choose to hurt?

[computage]

Well you do.

[ Mun is facepalming at her muse's terrible social skills. ]

[sharingscars]

[Gooood.

How do people survive with no concept of sarcasm, he wonders sometimes.]

Yooou don't get out much, do you?