[ closed ]

[userunfriendly]

Who ❄ Michel, various
What ❄ memshare and assorted overflow
When ❄ ~August
Where ❄ Lumina Cloth carnival
Content Warnings ❄ child abuse and violence, captivity, torture, gore, pet death, transphobia, misogyny, TBA. Specific warnings in headers.


[ Plotting post here! ]

Comments

[sicklysweet]

[Owen sags, like a puppet with its strings cut, letting go of Michel. He takes a breath, shoving all of his emotions as deep down as he possibly can, and lets that breath out solely.]

This place is a fucking nightmare.

[userunfriendly]

[ Michel lifts his hands, startled — he isn't a touchy person, but for a second it almost looks as if he might reach for Owen to keep him from folding outright. ]

I won't disagree with that. [ And a touch acerbically, despite the worried crease between his eyebrows: ] I did tell you to leave. ...But I should have been more specific.

[sicklysweet]

[This is all Michel's fault.]

Maybe you should have.

[All his fault!!]

Whatever. Just forget you saw anything.

[userunfriendly]

[ Yes, yes. Everything is Michel's fault, such is his life. ]

I can't promise that's possible. But at the least, I'll keep it to myself. If you could do me the same courtesy...

[sicklysweet]

Do you really think that lowly of me?

[If so, fair but also rude.]

[userunfriendly]

I don't know you. But I find it's best to expect nothing from anyone.

[ That's him, rude! Although his flat and level voice is maybe a shade softer than usual. ]

[sicklysweet]

[Again, he can't be mad because that's how Owen views the world and he's deliberately trying to come across as someone detestable but...

Hm.]

You don't have a lot of friends, do you?

[userunfriendly]

And you don't have any tact.

[ Look at each of them, with their respective lacks. Michel begins to move towards the exit again, not looking at the mirrors this time. His pace is careful to not evoke the appearance of a retreat. ]