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[snaggleteeth]

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QIMIR

text ❖ audio ❖ video

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text — un: PARISA cw: nsfw link

[multiverse]

Would you spend the night alone if you were me?

( image attached. )

[snaggleteeth]

I'd die at war the next day to kill that fate for you, while I'm me.

If I were you, I'd tell confirm I am Parisa from work. Hex Slip, right?

[that's star war for 'heyyy giiirl.']

[multiverse]

It's Parisa, of the Hex Slip.

You're the handsome one, aren't you?

( bad at names. a face, however? that, parisa never forgets. )

Well, then. Let's say I meant to text you.

un: andor | misfire (nsfw)

[aldhani]

[a photo of a thin knife scar on a chest. there's no other identifiable information.

along with it comes a message:]

It's starting to fade. We should do something about that.

[snaggleteeth]

Would you like less or more of it?

[he can guess this one isn't for him. cassian will, surely, tell him to delete if that's important.]

[aldhani]

[he should've known better than to think he would've been allowed to just ignore things forever. and, even sighing as he is, this could also be worse.]

Isn't the idea usually more?

delivery.

[ghostface]

( for the stranger, who has taken up occupancy in danny's late night thoughts: a palm-sized leather medicine pouch, with a gram of blow in a little baggie tucked inside. the unsigned note, left beside it, reads: )

Since you were curious.

I think about you fucking me all the time. I think about fucking you up all the time, too.

@over_the_🌈

[medication]

[ While all this is going on, and seeing as she didn't see him anywhere on there... ]

Hi Qimir
Are u busy tonight?

my ooc lhglhsf she did learn emojis hey good job bb

[snaggleteeth]

No. Just listening to the pitter patter of panicky feet.

What's going on?

thx u for noticing, faith taught her, its a whole new 🌍

[medication]

[ Is he talking about the same thing she's not talking about? He's so cool about it. It's unnerving and enviable.

Maybe she should play it cool too. That always works as long as she's got something worthwhile to back it up. ]

Nothing
I was just thinking its been a while since I saw you
And it could be fun if you came over

— telepathy wet dream. 🦪

[multiverse]

( the dream is a knife with a sharp little point, stubby, fat, hot in his grip. qimir takes it and slides it, not without sensuality or a familiarity of use, against the opening seam of an oyster, which cracks with a little pressure — the sound like a shoulder popping out of a joint. two halves spread open. the meat inside is fluttery and pink, drenched in a saltwater sea of juices. it doesn't need dressing up, no mignonette to hide the flavor. qimir takes his tongue and runs it up the parting of flesh, flicking, teasing the food. he sucks at the top of it, earning a mouthful of salty, cummy water for his effort. when he presses into the flesh, he finds himself tonguing at a hard bit of something under the surface, toying with it, pushing with the tip of his tongue upwards, until a pearl deposits into his mouth. black, iridescent, following the unmistakable flavor of cunt to the back of his throat.

proof of parisa's personage, or maybe just her power: he wakes up with a pearl in his mouth. )

@koby | prom tipsy text

[kobes]

hi
you look nice
i ahve gliters in my mouth???
:(

[attached, a very blurry, lopsided selfie of a very tipsy koby with his mouth open, tongue out. he does, indeed, have glitter there, smeared from the once-pristine sparkly gloss he'd been prevailed upon to wear.]

what do I Do

1/2

[snaggleteeth]

Mica is not bioavailable, so eating a small amount shouldn't cause any problems. It'll pass through your digestive tract without discomfort, unless you have an unusually sensitive stomach. I can't tell if you do. Your diet's confusing.

2/2

[snaggleteeth]

[—]

Thank you. You, too.

Gargle some water then wipe your mouth with a napkin.

[kobes]

its not confusing I eat sandwiches and potatoes and coffee
and thats all!!!!!





napkin in my mouth now
😞

text - backdated slightly

[nishtha]

[ By now he's seen the photos, the videos. Shifting figures in bad lighting. Gasps and cries muffled by pillows and distant, throbbing music. Occasional snatches of different languages. He doesn't remember any of it. But he recognises his companion, who made such an effort to record it all. Easy enough to put the rest together.

A buzzing pressure in his head like tinnitus. A distancing; someone else types out the text and sends it, while Armand sits in his body. ]

I gather you met Amadeo.

[snaggleteeth]

Hi.

[somewhere in the house, he rouses from a book, a bed, an ordinary circumstance in which to die.]

Was that his name? He never said.

[nishtha]

It was the name given to him. Did you treat him kindly?

[ This feels important. ]

@bob — text.

[sensive]

how do you know about all the stuff you know about

[ … ]

sorry that’s a dumb way to say it
did somebody teach you?

[snaggleteeth]

Not trying to be deliberately obtuse.

Which stuff? Mind work?

— telepathy wet dream. 🪾 (cw: torture porn)

[multiverse]

( the stranger is wooden in the dream, his body holding the shape of a man but lined with bark down his chest, limbs the things of trees. parisa has taken what she has from his mind and donned herself in jedi robes, black flowing fabric folded over itself, legs peeking out through long slits in the robe with every step she takes forward, sauntering, seductive. it's a trap, to be a tree. trees have roots, are stuck in place — there's no quiver of capable motion once parisa lays her hands on his chest, thumbing over the knot of his nipple. he's stuck. her plaything. her thing.

it can be an argument over ownership of the dream. ultimately parisa wins, maintaining dominion. she isn't a cruel mistress — at least, not outright. her hands flatten on his arms, extended outward in prostration, like jesus on the cross. parisa's look is curious, amused, and full of an underlying, simmering rage. such a rare thing, this gift. she grins at him, lifting up on her toes to kiss his splintery mouth. )

I will kill you, my darling. ( she licks at his lips, if only just to prove she can. there's fruit sprouting on the stranger-tree, bright oranges with thin rinds. parisa plucks one, like plucking out an eye. ) Don't think I couldn't. But ... it would be a shame. I enjoy having fun with you.

( this is also, implicitly, not an apology. she sticks her thumb in the orange, like pressing into the soft spot of some vital organ — a finger in his heart, scooping out the pulp. split, she brings the halves up to her mouth and savagely sinks her teeth in, juice dripping down her chin, his meat in her mouth. )

So. ( fruit discarded to the floor, she steps back up to him, hanging off him, an arm around his neck, her mouth in his ear. ) Don't fuck with me, whoever you are. Nothing-man. My little empty.

( (it's less that he killed her, more that he made her corpse ugly before perishing. she plays for the rest of the night with him, snapping twigs like little bones, caressing his thick trunk until sap comes out. ) )

sealby texts | @koby

[kobes]

🌠🌠🌠!!!!!!

⁉️🤷😖🤔

🦭🦭🦭

[snaggleteeth]

I don't have the pinniped vernacular for this.

Did you see a shooting star? Are you at the lake?

@goatface

[ghostface]

you ever corner my wife again about shit she doesn't want to talk about, i'll take your fucking balls.

[snaggleteeth]

[ they are so cute.]

I'd probably die. Do you think she has enough she doesn't want to talk about that we'd do it more than once?