#bubblymiracles

being excited :o)

Your dreams were blue, and you wake up with your pusher fluttering like a trapped wingbeast in your throat, still tasting phantom blood even though you're wrapped around Gamzee, wedged in as close to him as you can get.

When you wake, you have a solid fifteen seconds of irrational panic, trying to remember where you left that stupid sword.  It never was a quality blade... a pupa's FLARPing toy more than a real weapon, for all the damage it had been involved in, but snapped roughly in half? The broken edge was sharp enough. Even in the grasp of a uselessweakworthlessnothing like you.

Now, well... you've used it to dig shellbeasts and clay. Maybe hack down a stalkpole or two, in a pinch.  It might be helping hold up the woodpile, lately?

Somehow, you resist the urge to get up and look for it, clutching at Gamzee until you can convince yourself you don't really feel that spider-crawl sensation down the back of your neck, numbing tendrils fogging slowly through your pan.  Nashir rouses you further, when they clamber over the side of the nest and tumble against you, peering up into your face with their big, earnest eyes.

Eventually, you calm.

But that's just the beginning to a very, very long night.

((Ah yes, this clown motherfucker.

What a hornspan...

And his cute fairygoat!

Chill pro fiduspawn player like he never would have gotten to be as a bronze blood. He actually has a support system in the clurch so even after his “accident” he’s well taken care of, with stuff to help his chronic pain. He’d still have a tough time once he got to trial age, probably staying hidden with the help of the clurch and feeling kind of shitty about not being able to go off planet. He tries to take his mind off it with games and self medicating.))