(Untitled)

[roughsjustice]

[ Klavier is seated somewhere convenient in the mess hall. He has a cup of coffee next to him, and apple pie!! In front of him is a sign that says:

TALK TO ME IN THE NAME OF FORENSIC SKYENCE!!!
Go talk to him! ]

((Gonna stop tagging for now! Will tag both old and new when I get enough rest!))

Comments

[skepticalities]

. . .

"Skyence."

[fuckseptember]

A bad one.

[skepticalities]

That's what I thought.

[. . . pinches at the bridge of his nose.]

[fuckseptember]

...

Are we both getting a headache? That can't be good.

[skepticalities]

You're getting one?

[fuckseptember]

Yep.

[and I'm gabbing you and pulling you away from the nearest building in case there are killer supersonic waves or something]

[skepticalities]

[grabbed!]

- ngh.

[fuckseptember]

[yeah okay this is painful]

[skepticalities]

[CAN WE BLAME SEPTEMBER FOR THESE SPLITTING HEADACHES?]

[fuckseptember]

[FUCK SEPTEMBER. I am sitting down here and wait for it to go away]

[skepticalities]

[does the same, pulling his glasses off and running a hand through his hair.]

[fuckseptember]

If this is killing us I wish it'd kill us fast--

[oh no memories]

[skepticalities]

[what is this.]

. . . I . . .

[fuckseptember]

[... wait. feelings.]

[fuckseptember]

[fuck september feelings]

For what it's worth, I made a very impressive comeback.

[skepticalities]

[slips his glasses back on, staring at Peter for a few moments, quietly. and then:]

- that is so weird.