🌷Hello, nice to meet you🌷

it’s genuinely in the interests of advancing plot (e.g. ‘Pass the screwdriver?’ and you can assume my muse passes the screwdriver over, or even just that your muse ended up with the screwdriver one way or another, without having to stop the reply altogether for my interjection)

it’s NOT my muse’s dialogue, inner or outer

it’s REASONABLE for my muse (e.g. if they’ve already made it quite clear the screwdriver is a sentimentally precious family heirloom or something, then the screwdriver might not reasonably change hands)

the reply isn’t solely about my muse’s actions, thoughts or feelings, but rather is about your muse, with reference to mine

you are willing to accept criticism & critique and change the reply if I can’t reasonably see my muse doing that

⍤ : What does your muse’s voice sound like? Is it light? High pitched? Scratchy? Deep?

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy?

☕ : Does your muse prefer coffee or tea?

⌚ : Is your muse good with keeping on schedule for meetings, appointments, or events, or are they always late? Or, are they always a bit early?

♿ : Has your muse had any injuries in the past?

☺ : What is your muse’s smile like? Do they smile often?

⚡ : How does your muse feel about storms? Are they afraid of them, or do they calm them?

⚠ : How does your muse react to possibly dangerous situations? Do they face them head-on, or do they plan out their actions first?

☃  : What is your muse’s favorite season? What about their least favorite season, if they have one?

☂  : Does your muse like rain?

☼ : Does your muse like daytime or nighttime more?

🏨  : How well does your muse sleep?

❤ : What are your muse’s thoughts on love? If they are not in a relationship, do they believe that they will ever find a perfect someone for them?

☘ : Does your muse believe in luck? How about fate?

⚯ : Does your muse have good eyesight? If not, what is it like? Are they nearsighted or farsighted? Or both? Do they use glasses? Or do they prefer contacts?

👓 : If your muse wears glasses, what are their glasses frames like?

♨ : Does your muse have good table manners? How do they feel about bad table manners?

❀ : What is your muse’s opinion about flower crowns?

♬ : Does your muse sing well? Regardless of whether they sing well or not, do they enjoy singing?

📐 : Is your muse good at math? Do they like it, or do they hate it?

♞ : What is your muse’s favorite animal?

εїз : How does your muse feel about bugs and insects?

📱 : Does your muse prefer calling or texting?

☆ : Of the sun, stars, and the moon, which is your muse’s favorite?

ツ : Does your muse prefer lots of friends, or just a few close ones?

send a symbol for our muses to interact!

💨 catch my muse in a lie 

🛑 stop my muse from doing something reckless

🥄 feed my muse when they’re ill or injured

🔍 help my muse find a lost item

⚠️ clean up my muse after a fight

⚓ keep my muse anchored (anxiety, nightmare, etc.)

🔫 take a bullet for my muse

🛁 give my muse a bath

🛏️ carry my muse to bed

☠️ protect my muse

✋ hold my muse’s hand

🔪 stab my muse (accident, on purpose)

🚗 leave town with my muse

🕯️ remind my muse that they matter

💥 our muses share a tense moment

📖 our muses read a story

🎀 give my muse a gift

👊 our muses train

🌹 teach my muse something (include details)

🗝️ our muses share a quiet moment

🥪 our muses have a snack

🧡 for an eskimo kiss

❣️ for a top of the head kiss

💛 for a kiss on the cheek

💞 for a kiss on the hand

🖤 for a kiss on a wound (bruise, scar, etc.)

💚 for a forehead kiss

🔥 for an angry and relieved hug

💙 for a hug that won’t be remembered

🤔 for an unwanted hug

🎧 for a calming hug

💧 for a tearful hug

😩 for a ‘ forgive me ’ hug

💟 for a happy hug

🛸 for a goodbye hug

She slips her hands in her pockets with a sigh. Somehow, she figured telling him she’s a detective wouldn’t pan over well. Her eyes locked on the thirium staining through his shirt. Would he be stubborn enough to let himself deactivate? Wait, why the hell did she even care? Harper had done her part and now he was being a dick. She should just be on her way now.

“Really doesn’t look like you’ve handled yourself that well…-all offense intended,” she shrugged, “but fine, you don’t want an olive branch, less issue for me.” The detective met his scowl with one of her own. “The hero scene isn’t really my forte, no. Guess I should have let you get beaten all to hell?” Her tone is drenched in sarcasm.

“Besides...I’m not the only one who looks like shit right now, genius. You’re not looking too hot either, and even though you put up a good fight...seems like I’m not the only one who needs help...that sound about right?”

Henry had originally been organizing the plants that were on display near the front of the shop when he was approached by the other, He turned, a small ‘hm?’ coming from him as he looked at him, realizing he was also another android. An MC500, known for being used as a first responder, the android’s uniform telling him that he was a firefighter.

A bitter laugh escapes her at the android’s sass, rolling her eyes. Though her smirk fades slightly at the self-deprecating–so it wasn’t that he didn’t need saving, but he thought he didn’t deserve it? Deep down, empathy stirred in her gut. Or maybe she was reading too much into this whole mess.

She raises a brow, taking note of the practically murderous look in his eye–the blood on his hands began to hold a different context. Before, she’d assumed it was from this fight, but now that’s she considered it, it didn’t exactly look…fresh. One of the men began to squirm in his sleep: great, it looked like he might throw up. Well, if she left them like this and they drowned on their own vomit, she’d be partially at fault. ”Shit,” momentarily ignoring the android, she dragged each of the men so that they were laying in their sides against the wall. There: that would have to suffice. She wipes their drunken grime off on her pants, making no effort to hide her disgust.

“What are you, my Mother? I can handle myself, Miss Hero. Ain’t nothing I haven’t had before already...” He looked down a moment before realizing there was a bit of fresh thirium staining the abdomen of his t-shirt. Fucking hell. They must’ve gotten him in an already injured part of his torso. God, that was annoying as all hell. He was thankful he couldn’t feel any of it though. That...would likely make things a whole lot more difficult than they already were, what with his joints locking up, and him always having to patch himself up. It was all worth it though if it meant not having humans who enacted their violent behaviors such as that on the streets.

                crushed beneath a boot,

                                I          c                                                  r                                               u

”Tch. Didn’t need my help, ” she mocks bitterly, reaching for her pocket and pulling a crumpled napkin from the bar, wiping the blood from her hands. ”The way things were going, you’d be nothing but a fucking pile of plastic if I hadn’t intervened.”

Though his appearance is gruesome, she doesn’t stare. She’d seen plenty of discarded androids in the back streets of Detroit; all with horrifying expressions forever etched on to what was left of their faces. This city was plagued with hatred for what it didn’t understand and Cyberlife did absolutely nothing to quell it. Though she won’t admit it, she’d relived to have actually made it in time to help for once.

Who the hell did this woman even think she was, and how the hell did she even take down these men? He looked down to them, unconscious, beaten...but still alive. He only wished that he could change that. That, however, likely wouldn’t fly too well with this stranger, and he didn’t want to risk sustaining any more damage to himself. He sure as hell didn’t see himself as some kind of saint, but he certainly was doing Detroit a favor by getting rid of low lives like these men. The world was slightly less of a shit hole without them. He didn’t do anything, but the way he stared at them was evident of just what he felt like doing. He cursed under his breath before willing himself to look away from them. Well, tonight was a fucking bust.