Poor Arlo. Ok, I get it. If you find out someone is cheating on you, just go sparring with them. That's how you make fully use of sparring.  This funny mini-play is created by one of our #MyTimeatPortia fans @pppine901. #indiegame #MTaP

+ edna welthorpe

 ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)

Getting my late night creativity going :) #miniplay

Another compliment. While he liked that Karma found him attractive, the extravagance of his claims made him question their validity. More beautiful every day? Never look bad? Was he being serious or was this just a ploy to try and get him to agree to let him pay? Either way, he knew the truth. There was nothing attractive about his bed head or frumpy sleep wear, and he hadn't changed a bit physically, aside from maybe the bruises, since they'd first start hanging around one another. Even with his compliment Iza refused to let up, and instead chose not to acknowledge the compliments at all; he was not letting him pay for everything. He wasn't used to having things handed to him, he always had to find a way to get what he needed and he'd always managed in the past to get it one way or another. Maybe he was a bit prideful, but Karma had already managed to break through most things he was prideful over...this was one thing he held onto, his last shred of independence. He could do it on his own. He didn't want to have to need someone...though he already needed Karma more than he was willing to admit. As the cool, icy droplets pricked his skin, his body shivered, goosebumps rising upon his skin. When the curtain was tugged open, wise, alert eyes peered over at the red head who was now watching him like a hawk as he quickly washed his hair. Even in the chilly water of his shower, heat managed to find it's way onto his cold, pale skin, hinting at the flesh and staining it with a soft blush. Luckily, he was distracted from the nerves that were rising up within him when he was asked about his contacts. As he began to rinse his hair clean of shampoo he closed his eyes and thought about how to answer such a question. "I don't like the color of my eyes, so I wear contacts to change it." Simple, but lacking the details that might explain why exactly he didn't like it. Conditioner was a quick task, and soon he was lathering himself up with an oddly colored bar of soap and rinsing his body clean. Now fully awake, whether he wanted to be or not, he turned and shut off the water. Leaning to one side slightly, he started to gently ring his hair out with one hand while the other pointed off to something on the opposite side of the bathroom. "Hand me that towel, would you?"

Anyone else have any other ideas~?

I guess we'll just have to see what happens from here.