inbox.

[nightmarist]

Comments

[nightmarist]

A playground?

[aberrant_type]

A space playground! A simulation! For space! For me to grow plants in and experiment with creating a micro-environment!

[nightmarist]

Maybe now's a good time to mention I don't like you, either.

[aberrant_type]

Do you like withering and getting all skinny and wasting away in deep space, breathing foul, stinking air and missing your farm?

[aberrant_type]

Besides, who was it who came crawling to me first while his innards melted to sludge?

[nightmarist]

[He has not forgotten.]

I don't need to breathe if I'm not in a body. On that note, you need to make your own playground, but fine, I'll let you use me.

[aberrant_type]

Good.

[nightmarist]

Fucking humans.

[aberrant_type]

What's that?

[nightmarist]

[You heard him.]

When are we doing this?

[aberrant_type]

[Yeah, and she said what's that, but she really meant what's your problem with them, Ronan? Oh, well.]

Well. What do you mean, when you say I'd have to make my own? What does that entail?

[nightmarist]

I climb into your brain and we dream it together. That way you can get it exactly how you want it.

[aberrant_type]

I don't know how a space ship should look or what it should act like... I suppose a stable environment surrounded by lightless, hostile, airless void would suffice for a test run.

[nightmarist]

We'll figure it out.

[aberrant_type]

Are you free now?

[nightmarist]

Unfortunately.

[aberrant_type]

Great! Let's get both these jobs done. Baseline and, mm, environment. Your place or mine?

[nightmarist]

Wherever you want your weird space thing to be.

[aberrant_type]

My place, then.

[She sends him the address.]

[nightmarist]

Incoming.

[Two seconds later, there's a burst of strange light and then... Ronan, leaning up against the wall right next to Hange like he was there the whole time.]

[aberrant_type]

[He's come into a place of organized chaos. Hange's kitchen, that is, which blends into a tiny little living room. That's just about the entirety of the first floor of her house, and the whole places gives off the impression of organized chaos. There are books everywhere, and plants everywhere, on the windowsills and even growing up the walls. She has a split sink, and one side is full standing water that's obviously been there for a while. Two lotuses are growing in it, and some lilypads. Somehow, the sink is NOT full of dirty dishes, and the clean ones sit in a drying rack next to the sink (thank you, Yato, for the housekeeping).

Hange was sitting at her kitchen table, where there's a tiny little space cleared out for her to sit and eat or do stuff. The rest of it is covered in books.

She flinches away when Ronan appears.]

Fuck!

[nightmarist]

[He doesn't move from his spot - which doesn't make him any less spooky, really, what with all the looming.]

Hi.

[aberrant_type]

Appear outside next time! Knock on the door!

[WhAT'S WRONG WITH YOU KID??]

[nightmarist]

We're about to undertake symbiosis and you're freaked out by this?

[aberrant_type]

No.

[Kind of? Whatever. She shoves her communicator away from her and stands.]

Do I appear in your house? Honestly. I walk onto your property and knock on the door.