towerofanimus | INTRO LOG

Characters: The Psiioniic and YOU
Setting: Wandering
Format: Also up to the tagger
Summary: The Psiioniic is wandering and exploring his new surroundings, and is also lost. THESE AREN'T MY GLASSES.
Warning: He doesn't have shoes on.

[At first he hadn't moved much when he awoke. Like someone laying awake in bed in the early hours of the morning. A child unable to go back to bed while dismissing the notion of having to get up. At least, that's what every fiber of his being seemed to spell out. In actuality, he'd been waiting. Waiting for permission, a command, anything that guaranteed it was okay to move about.

When it didn't come and didn't come, he finally took the initiative to get up and wander on his own. The situation didn't seem to frighten him, or faze him. Instead, it piqued his curiosity and blue/red eyes quietly observed the floors. Acknowledging things in some hidden understanding.

Perhaps he is simply lost and there is no universal truth in which he seeks.

Or perhaps it is because he is barefoot and moving to keep them warm.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Million dollar? [HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND.]

Perhapth no one ith in charge?

[she waves a hand dismissively. LET IT GO, SHE DOES NOT FEEL LIKE EXPLAINING SYNTAX TO YOU]

Nah, there's somebody pulling the strings up there. This shit's way too deliberate to just be an accident.

Are you thure?

[He can't just take your word for it.]

Did you read the letter they give you when you get dumped here?

Thort of.

[He skimmed over it.]

Do accidents in the fabric of time and space usually leave you little notes like that?

[wow dude you're such a bad detective]

...thometimeth.

[um, no, you are you loser. dont you ever recieve notes from the universe??]

Then your little pocket of paradox space is a hell of a lot more polite than mine. That shit just doesn't happen on its own.

[no she's too busy being punched in the face by it]

Perhapth I don't inthult it conthantly.

Now what could possibly give you the idea that I go around flipping off the universe? I'm just the most polite little girl you'd ever hope to meet, christ.

My name isn't Chritht... it's Pthionic.

I wasn't - ok, no, I really don't want to go down that road. [she sighs, a hand coming up to massage the bridge of her nose]

Rose Strider. Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you too, Rothe.

[a new friendship is born!!!]

[RANK UP!]

Hopefully our conversations aren't going to exclusively consist of me screeching at you to wear basic articles of clothing.

[Tune in next week when he's not wearing any pants!!]

But I am wearing the bathic articleth of clotheth.

[god dammit Psii, stop getting into these wacky situations.]

For now. I'm not really convinced you're going to keep it up.

[it's Indiana Troll and the Kingdom of Pants.]

Why?

[and here she is without her trusty whip and pistol. daaaamn.]

That would require common sense, which you seem to be kind of low on.

[you don't need whips and pistols in the kingdom of pants.]

I have plenty of common thenthe.

[but the whip could have been a makeshift belt!]

Could've fooled me.

[GOD ROSE. YOU CAN'T JUST OPPRESS PANTS PEOPLE.]

I have enough to keep me alive.

[WATCH HER]

That's not saying much, considering that you could say the same for most animals too.

Well, that'th bathically what I am, right? An animal.

[Rose babby do you not understand that you're talking to someone who's scared of freedom?]

An animal capable of rational thought. It's kind of a huge fucking difference.

[she crosses her arms, tone a little harsher than before.

what the shit is with you yellow bloods and being free and making choices? is she going to have to drag you around by the ear too?]

[OH GOD IT'S ANOTHER HANDMAID. ABORT ABORT.]

I'm only doing what I was born to do.

(no subject)

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