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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 05 2025, 07:03 AM


THREE TICKETS PLEASE IN Main Area
what kind of god lets children die?
they probably went in her room
they probably thought she was asleep
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#21
 
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"That sounds fun, too," Pollen said, shrugging. She hadn't done those things before, so who knew how much entertainment they actually were? Innocent eyes blinked up to Aethril as Pollen put her paws on her knees. "Can we research more?"

Even if she was a Gardener, she imagined what it would be like to research plants, too- look for them, ask people about them... That'd be great!

Her face lit up when Aethril told her that Rodd was real. "Can we go wake him up?" Her voice had raised an octave as she leaned forward, little paws tapping on her knees as her tail wagged behind her. She slowed down a little, though, as Obieth kept eating food, and Aethril's own research came to a head.

Pollen's head turned back to the screen- now empty now- as she contemplated the question. "He was..." Mean? He had to be mean, though. She liked him, she thought, but more in the sense that he just seemed like another character. "Big?" Her voice held uncertainty as she curled her knees in closer, teeth gritting just slightly.

What else could she say? "Strong. He's very strong. And I don't think he liked Rodd. Maybe he prefers the quiet?" She looked back to Aethril, still uncertain in her answer. She hadn't been able to really parse what people were like yet- and she could be totally wrong, but it wasn't like this was a test or anything. The childish anxiety wasn't there in that sense- she just wasn't sure if she'd paid attention to the right person on screen.

Besides, the research was for Vargas, right? Pollen frowned just a little as she looked back to the empty screen, pondering about the Overseer-turned-Master.

She blinked, though, at Obieth's offer. Ahh, the gourd..? Taking it in her paws, she sniffed at it experimentally and put the bowl of candy within, balancing the gourd itself on her lap. "Ahh, thank you," she said very quietly, taking on an uneasy smile that became faintly genuine at the present.


@Aethril
Unless otherwise stated, Pollen is always wearing some form of overalls with her gold bandana. She currently has a clipped mane and a covering of waxy foliage and vines on her exposed shoulders and arms.

 
 
SO WHAT IF SOMETHING
IS GNAWING AT MY SOUL?
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#22
 
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"We'd have to find him first," she said in response to Pollen, but her mind was lingering on Obieth's response, which was mostly based around Vargas's aesthetic appearances. She felt no particular way about his voice, or his lights, or his green parts and, ultimately, she came to the conclusion that this wasn't helpful.

And, for that matter, neither was Pollen's response.

Aethril let Obieth go to lounge right back into the oversized seat, rubbing her temples in thought. Nothing about Vargas-- not from this screening, not from meeting him --seemed particularly wrong, so why the hell did she have such a bad feeling about him?

He was in the way, certainly. Some Hands might have killed him for getting in the way of something they'd wanted to see-- she could definitely see Dhracia being less than pleased with that --but Aethril didn't care much. If he thought she was a damsel that needed protecting, then all the better for her. It would keep him off his guard if something were to go wrong.

She was frowning. "Rodd has a specific... personality, that not everyone can get along with," she responded in the meantime. "Particularly the quieter types." Maybe Vargas just didn't like to be bothered at the best of times, never mind a--

Oh.

Oh.

"He's an idiot," came her great revelation, and the Hand's eyes were wide with the dawning realisation. What a fool! What an absolute weenie! "Not once did he ask for proof about who I was or if I had any authority to be looking at his creations. Anyone could just walk into Draco and tell him they are anything and he'd just believe it!"

Her voice had raised with a flurry of emotions: absolute shock and horror that Vargas would just believe what anyone told him, and the excited relief of finally figuring out why she distrusted the Master.

But then came another realisation: what if this was just what Vargas wanted her to think?

Aethril, who'd since jolted up, began slowly seep back into the cushion. Surely not. Maybe he just didn't want to risk pissing her off. Could he be setting her expectations of him low, as she might have his?

She massaged her temple. "They'll play another in a little while," Aethril finally said. "They just need to change the tapes."



@Obieth






 
 
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#23
 
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Gift successfully deposited, Obieth--supremely proud of herself, and her generosity--settled back in. "Are we staying?" she asked, looking to Aethril with a flick of her tail. She curled into her seat, settling, leaning heavily against her Hand. With a rumble that was distinctly purr-like (if heavy, like distant drums) Obieth turned half-sideways and butted her head gently against Aethril.

It was a cat-like gesture, and it was not, in fact, love. It would be a close bet as to whether Obieth even felt such things. It was more a show of faint gratitude--she had been fed; food was good--and contentment. And she wanted to be touched, wanted a hand running over her scalp again. That felt good.

She didn't bother, or care, where her hind limbs and tail ended up. Possibly, the latter would just drape right over Pollen's lap, ridges and all--or maybe it'd fall down and out of the way. Her eyes slipped shut.

For once, though, she did not simply lay empty in her own sensations. Fed--sated--her mind went to work, if lazily, churning through what they'd just seen. "Why did you need to research him?" she asked, eyes shut. "What is it that you want to know?" Ahh, but she held the power to find out, didn't she-? Wasn't it up to her to offer such to her Hand? "If you want to see into his mind, I can look for you," she added, with a smug flick of her tail.

Nobody had taught her this magic, but nobody had needed to. She had hatched with it, a tool, a weapon in an unseen arsenal--and she'd known, though only by vague instinct alone, how to make use of it.




@Pollen

 
 
what kind of god lets children die?
they probably went in her room
they probably thought she was asleep
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#24
 
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Pollen slumped a little. They'd have to find him... Where would he be? Letting off a soft huff, Pollen resigned to the fact that they might not find him at all, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth- despite all the candy she'd been eating.

Speaking of candy, to take her mind off of this horrible realization, Pollen quickly unraveled open another hard ball and popped it in her mouth for it to melt slowly. She'd listened as Aethril came to her conclusion- and she nearly choked at the result.

Vargas didn't seem like a fool- was he one, under the facade? But, he was smart. Pollen coughed lightly (mostly to get the sweet taste from the back of her mouth away) as she watched Aethril speak, her own eyes wide open.

She'd never seen her so... Animated. At least, not in this way, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't have anything to say either, so she settled back in her chair and simply watched Aethril as she rolled the candy in her mouth. Her gaze resettled on the blank screen, and her ears flicked back- another would play (another Vargas..?), and she did want to see Rodd Danger, but Aethril took precedence here. Obieth's words- and her tail in Pollen's lap, which she idly put her paws down on- were welcome. Pollen didn't know what to say, and Obieth's questions seemed right, anyways, and Pollen ran her paws over Obieth's tail ridges as she spoke.

She did want to stay and see more films. For now, though, she looked up to Aethril for Obieth's answers, curious to hear them herself, too.


@Aethril
Unless otherwise stated, Pollen is always wearing some form of overalls with her gold bandana. She currently has a clipped mane and a covering of waxy foliage and vines on her exposed shoulders and arms.

 
 
SO WHAT IF SOMETHING
IS GNAWING AT MY SOUL?
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#25
 
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"I don't see why not," Aethril glanced at the screen. It'd be nice to stay and watch a little more-- and she'd like to see Nemean's show afterwards, too. "You should run out and get more snacks if you want them."

Obieth's intentions in laying next to her didn't quite matter to Aethril; she liked the company and the closeness and having her hands doing something, and soon her fingers were drifting along the ridges of the Valkhound's scalp and itching her side.

Her gaze flicked down to the cat with amusement. "No, honey. He already caught you snooping in his mind once," she said, smirking quietly. "As for what I want from him-- I'm just worried he's going to turn out like the rest."

A heavy sigh shook Aethril's shoulders and her idle itching intensified. "I can't shake the feeling that he's up to something-- but, well, if he's truly that stupid, then he might not quite have the brain capacity to understand how to betray someone."

Unless Dontacael got a hold of him, but that was a concern to be tucked away for another time. "Let me keep fretting over it for a while longer and eventually I'll figure out how to rattle the information out of him," she finished. She could whip out the wine kegs, perhaps. Though, did she really want to risk what kind of a monster drunk Vargas was?

She hummed, getting idly comfortable again. "Rodd did a lot of episodes, with a lot of different people and rebels. There's plenty to see."



@Obieth






 
 
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#26
 
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"Snacks" always sounded good, but Obieth's attention was drawn first to Aethril's other answer. She peered up at the Hand, puzzled.

"But he cannot... hide his thoughts. No?" she asked; or had she misunderstood? She wasn't aware of the concept of mental discipline: of thinking other, specific thoughts to hide what might lie beneath, to carefully control one's emotions.

But food then took priority, the half-dimmed lights granting her sharp vision as she turned back to look at Pollen. "Who will get... ssnacks?" she asked, with a hopeful flick of her tail and a little pleased hiss on the final word. She didn't move, yet, perched as she was (pleasantly, too) beneath the brush of her Hand's fingertips. But there was a faint tensing to her muscles. If she were sent to get "snacks," undoubtedly she'd go overboard on that; it might be best if she weren't trusted to do so.



@Pollen

 
 
what kind of god lets children die?
they probably went in her room
they probably thought she was asleep
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#27
 
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Who would get snacks, indeed? Pollen watched the others, but Obieth was looking at her and- oh! It clicked, when Pollen pointed to herself. Aethril was mulling on her own end, and Pollen figured she could be left to it, after all- she had snacks to get. What did they have before- the twisty things, and the meat-and-butter gourd? At least, that was her approximation, and she stamped that in the inside of her mind.

She did listen to Aethril, at least, as she gently pried herself from Obieth's legs and tail, gently raising and lowering them as best she could onto her own chair. Briefly, she glanced to Aethril- you could shake information out of them? Pollen would be a little too small for that, but she was excited for more shows, maybe.

"I'll go get snacks!" She announced before trundling back to the concession stand, slamming her paws on the barely-reachable counter. "Same again!" she squeak-demanded, drumming onto the surface. "Oh uh- I have enough candy! I don't need more candy yet!"

She waited, still stretched out and reaching up as she looked back to Aethril and Obieth. She liked them a lot- and, heck, she'd probably do anything they asked of her. It made her happy to be able to get the food and stuff for them, and she smiled at their backs as the food was prepared.

It was a long moment to wait for a little kid, but once the items were given- a slushie, pretzel tray, and popcorn-hotdog gourd- Pollen squatted on the ground to balance the tray on the gourd and grabbed the lip on the cup with her teeth. Carefully, ever so carefully, she returned with it without toppling, trying hard not to drop anything anywhere so people didn't lose their snacks.

"Here!" she half-spoke through the cup, offering out the items before handing the slushie to Aethril."Do you want any other snacks?" She glanced between the two to see if she should grab something else, or sit back down with them.


@Aethril
Unless otherwise stated, Pollen is always wearing some form of overalls with her gold bandana. She currently has a clipped mane and a covering of waxy foliage and vines on her exposed shoulders and arms.

 
 
SO WHAT IF SOMETHING
IS GNAWING AT MY SOUL?
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#28
 
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Aethril considered. "No, he can't," she agreed. "But he can certainly kill you before you can bring back whatever you've found. I'd prefer you alive. I can handle it."

She side-eyed Pollen and then slumped further in her seat, now using the addition of Both Hands to itch away at her skull. She was still quietly considering-- how much wine would it take to get Vargas, for lack of a better term, white girl wasted? He was quite big.

... maybe he'd need something stronger. She could raid Nedies's supply and see if she could locate some vodka; but that lead to an even more concerning question: what would vodka-drunk Vargas be like?

Better stick to wine, she decided as she flicked her gaze to Pollen returning. She took the slush and the soft pretzels with a nod and a "thank you," slurping from the straw.

And then, quietly, she was settling down and drifting her gaze to the screen again.



fade next round maybe?

@Obieth






 
 
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#29
 
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Obieth turned, curling onto her side, her back--an unusual display of... well. It would have been an unusual display of vulnerability for a cat. Obieth's chest and belly, as it turned out, were deeply-pitted ribs of metallic bone with little meat between themselves and her coat, forming a bony frame; little spines jutted from each, like reversed vertebrae, upward into the air as she sprawled out. Her tail uncurled into Pollen's briefly-abandoned seat, and she lay full, comfortable and content for a moment.

The only thing she really offered as Pollen departed was a request, more a question: "Do they make... meat... candy?" It was hopeful, but then again, tentative; she was not quite sure what "meat candy" would entail.

Aethril's refusal of her offer didn't bother her; she mentally shrugged it away, accepting it blankly. But she did provide clarification, in the form of idle conversation rather than real argument. "And if you... came with us? If you... told him... to let me look? You are Queen everywhere, yes?"

Queen; that was the ultimate title, right? That seemed right to her, and she glanced at Aethril curiously. Her words were patient, though, rather than rushed--she was assuming there was some reason this wouldn't work, and trusted her Hand to inform her as to "why."

Obieth would, of course, flick her tail out of the way upon Pollen's return; she wasn't so inconsiderate as to half-steal the Gardener's seat with only one appendage.




@Pollen

(I'm fine to fade out!)

 
 
what kind of god lets children die?
they probably went in her room
they probably thought she was asleep
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#30
 
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Pollen just mostly assumed the popcorn and meat was "meat candy", since she didn't have much frame of reference for what was and what wasn't candy. And so, she'd just gotten the gourd- though, maybe she'd ask about it next time? In any case, when she'd returned, they were talking, and Pollen stayed quiet when everyone took their things.

Obieth moved, and Pollen settled back in, pulling Obieth's tail back like it was a blanket and placing her own half-full bucket back into her lap. She'd nurse this for the whole time they were here- it was a lot to choose from, and she enjoyed it all.

"When's the next episode?" She squeaked quietly, trying not to interrupt any conversation that was happening. She'd wait for it, watching the screen, and idly eating candy all the while.

She liked doing this kind of research.


@Aethril
that works!
;exit pollen
Unless otherwise stated, Pollen is always wearing some form of overalls with her gold bandana. She currently has a clipped mane and a covering of waxy foliage and vines on her exposed shoulders and arms.

 
 



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