✰ | specificity

Saturdays were Silvia’s least favorite day of the week, bar-none. There were too many people, too many colors, too many voices that didn’t belong to her. Focusing was a thing of the past, and migraines were like jackhammers at every point of her cranium. It was a miracle she hadn’t outed herself yet–at least not on an actual Saturday. Today was exceptionally worse, somehow; the streets of New York lined with people and emotions and varying degrees of volatility. 

She clutched at the side of her head, attempting against all odds to ward off a headache, leaning against a nearby wall. “Shit.” 

Phone in hand, Titan was among the majority out and about in New York collected pokemon post the USA launch of the best app ever made - suck a nut whatsapp. Turning the corner, Titan spotted it. The ellucive pikachu. “Excuse me miss, not to be, you know, that guy but if you could not move there is a pikachu on your right foot and if I don’t capture him I will literally die because I restarted my game earlier this morning and I had already found a level 56 Pidgey and that shit is not easy in this crap town, okay?” 

     “as fitting as it is to make my tower a gym, this is getting ridiculous. i can’t even leave my garage without almost hitting someone with their face buried in their phone.”

“–so ANYWAY, i told ‘im. i told the guy ‘hey, johnny, y’know we’re gonna have to take that gun away, my dude. that’s illegal, man, you’re pointin’ it right at that lady’ and he started yellin’ at me about his LEGAL RIGHTS and thats the minute, right there, when i started praying for nic cage to steal those documents and CHANGE ‘em–just a lil’. right to bear arms?? nah. right to BARE arms, fuck sleeves, dude.”

“ I just wasted four pokeballs for that Eevee. I’m trained in multiple kinds of combat. I can shoot a target from five hundred yards… but can’t catch an Eevee? “  

‘ you know twitter users can lose up to a million followers a day –            just    tragic. ‘

“According to all known laws of avi– Son of a bitch!” Warren set the phone down on the grass next to him, watching as the text tone alerted him each time a new chunk of the script came through. 

“How many fucking texts is it going to take?” He bemoaned, almost regretting giving his cousin his number. “D’ you have any idea how to, like, stop a chain of text messages? Any at all? I’m dyin’ here, dude.”

“So, is everyone obsessed with this new game?”

“you need some help?” the female webslinger is upside down, brow furrowed in concern. “i don’t exactly dress in this s u i t just because it looks pretty.”

“i can go all sorts of places though, i guess that’s the good part. what i got trouble with is bringing places here. yellowstone is cool though. mistake turned vacation, i hear?” again, she lifts the drooping, glitching blade. “i’m the number two genji in game, i’m just trying to get to be the number one out of game. i don’t want to be betty spaghetti. i hate the name betty.”