#rp5

King Diego: *in mind: this place looks... familiar...*

It was early afternoon, and Queenie had come to visit Tempest to try on some of the dresses she was making. Queenie didn’t mind standing around so much; being a model for the outfits was enough incentive, and Tempest certainly seemed to view it as her ‘helping out’. The main draw was getting a dress of her own fitted for the trouble. Her arms and legs were getting stiff, though, and being pricked by the occasional pin wasn’t so wonderful, but she could bear it.

When Tempest tightens her corset a little too much, however, Queenie seems to have reached her limit, and squawks a pained cry. “AaiiiEEee—! Good goddesses, woman! Are you trying to break my spine? I know beauty is pain, but it would be preferable to have an intact ribcage!!”  

She takes a few short, shallow breaths to calm herself, anticipating some slight loosening or, at the very least, some reassurance. After recovering, she decides it would be better to converse than stand stiffly in silence. There was something she’d been meaning to press about, anyway…and it was only fair ‘revenge’.

Tap tap tap tap tap-

As much as Helena loathed the incessant sound of the tip of a boot against tile, she had to agree with Marta’s impatience as they sat there at their shared desk. They had sent whole droves of men to every state in the region. At least two men in each northern, southern, eastern, and western sector of each state. And, yet- A whole week, and nothing? She’d only gotten blips of potential intel from some of her sources. 

One, though- Claimed to have seen a potentially class 5 air elemental. Something to do with going to some kitchy midsummer festival and seeing a dance performance get supplemented by gusts of an unnatural wind, lightning, thunder. 

To Helena, and even perhaps to Marta, it seemed absolutely hyperbolic. A special-effects team could have easily done work like that. Or, at least some of it. But, in a desperate attempt just to get something on the damned elusive air elementals,as well as the countless half-breeds that they seemed to spread about like a disease, they decided to permit him to come back into their halls, deep in the depths of a large, secluded cabin in the mountains, just for the sake of divulging what he knew.

Internally, Helena chuckled. Curled up at her feet, even Rong, her komodo dragon familiar, had a small pool of deadly saliva spreading just under his chin, perched on the floor. Hungry. Waiting for something to do. Something to pounce onto and make his plaything. 

It was a bright and early morning. Perhaps too early for some, but Sabi was quite happily heading to a place Pansy had often gossiped about : The Calamari Canteen.

Because there weren’t as many seafolk about at this hour, the reclusive Octoling felt comfortable enough to go outside without wearing a bandanna. ‘Today is going to be a good day’, he repeated to himself, ‘You’re going to eat something nice and get out of the house. You deserve this. You earned it.’

Sabi wasn’t used to eating out – in fact, he’d hardly ever done so at all. He’d only eaten at Café Callaway (once) and Manta’s Place (twice); most of the time he cooked at home. From what he understood, it was sort of like grocery shopping, except you sat down, ordered from a list, and ate there.

I want a Raspberry Pi 5, if you can't tell. The only reservation I had (which had me considering alternatives) was the lack of a formal and uncluttered nvme addon. And here one is 😁💀

((Press a finger against my muse's lips.))

Khan was about to speak when- what?

Vega had stopped his lips. After a brief moment of surprise, his eyes narrowed and he just stared her, as if demanding an explanation. He hated to be touched against his will- his experiences weren't any good. To make things worse, he tilted his jaw slightly. He looked upset.