[Guess what, Hilda... Lorenz demands reparation... Or: he has attempted to nip this in the bud to no avail, and now he is here, loitering with his drink, watching with mild dread as undesirables keep putting their names on him. God! Is this real!
Hilda's support is appreciated, maybe, but also maybe not really because—]
If I recall... That particular poem was disposed of for being of too low a quality to ever see the light of day! And yet, there it is! How interesting.
[That is just one of his many objections!!]
i haven't even picked her outfit yet... quelle horreur
[What is shame, Lorenz? Hilda doesn't know her? Or: Hilda watches yet another person bid on her pal before shifting her attention down to her champagne glass, demurely lowering her lashes as she does so. She is the very picture of innocence, Lorenz. Small and cute and harmless.]
Very interesting, [she agrees, tilting her glass this way and that was just to watch that strawberry bob about the bubbly.] Maybe you turned it in on your own? We both had a lot to drink that night... my memories are a liiiittle hazy.
[Oh, boxed wine! How they love thee.]
Or maybe someone realized that your poem was very good and turned it in for you? How nice of them.
[This is probably when Sylvain steps up to bid? Hilda is going to choke right here, right now.]
neither have i...... i don't know how to find ye olde outfits in all purple. help me
[How dare she question his pristine memory, which is definitely untouched by boxed wine? Lorenz Hellman Gloucester would never forget what he does with a poem, especially when he doesn't like it! Damn!]
Oh, do you think so? [but he's still fool enough to fall for a compliment—] I'm sure that person is a better judge than me, the poet himself...
[Hildaaaa... ah, but this banter is immediately over the second he spots Sylvain. Were he an impolite man, he would shatter his wine glass instantly.]
Hilda. You must place a bid. As soon as possible, please.
[ Gintoki is in a different predicament because he didn't sign up for this. He's looking a bit foxy thanks to the triple moon that's going on right now, so when his name is called, he's in the middle of picking at his teeth. ]
Ah? Me? Aaa, nono. I think you have a mistake. You mean Kintoki. Surely there's a Kintoki in the house. Our names are similar..
[ Then for some reason, some reason this cute places a bid on him. Suddenly his reaction is different. A lot different. ]
[The champagne floweth at this function, and who would Hilda be if she didn't take advantage of it? Especially since some genius—some absolute genius—saw fit to plop a strawberry in each and every champagne flute. It's official: Hilda is living her best life.
So she can't be blamed for bidding on this stranger simply because she wants to touch his ears? Just like she can't be blamed for... whatever it is said stranger is doing. The auctioneer looks at him, then at her—and she holds up a single finger. One minute, please! Is this, mayhaps... the beginning of a scheme...]
Three hundred! Oh, wow. [What the fuck is "yen?" Oh, well. Enjoy her most charming smile, Gin.] Is that the best you can do? Why not go for four hundred?
[It hadn't taken long for Constance to find Hilda at the ball (even amidst all the colourful attendees, she did stand out), which wasn't actually ideal; she'd wanted a bit of time to work up the courage to ask her something that had been playing on her mind for the last little while. The topic was hideously embarrassing - humiliating, really - but Constance couldn't deny that the idea might have some merit.
Besides, if she simply thought of it as another type of study, surely that would be okay!
...hopefully.]
Hilda....do you remember that evening when you mentioned teaching me how to....talk to...boys?
[You may have been tipsy so perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but...well...can't hurt to ask, at least...]
[Can you believe I haven't picked Hilda's outfit yet? Oop @ me. That aside, however: Hilda is, in in typical Hilda fashion, living it up at this ball, flitting from here to there as she takes full advantage of the free champagne. Or, more accurately, convincing others to take full advantage of the free champagne, because fetching her own drink when there are plenty of Prismals to bat her eyelashes at? Pfft. That's just silly.
So let it be known that she's busily waving goodbye to... someone or another, when Constance sidles up to her. And let it also be known that she's always happy to see Constance, but ah, if that question doesn't catch her off guard.]
Oh? [Give her a second here, please, to recall their last soap opera viewing sesh—and then she's straightening her back, eyes widening as things clicking right into place.] Oh! Right. Of course I remember. How could I possibly forget?
[Sure, the the offer had been, like, half serious, half jest, but? But. As she tilts her champagne glass from one side to the other, letting the fizzy liquid slosh back and forth, her lips curve into a small smile. Constance is... cute? Constance is cute.]
[Constance will deny any and all accusations of being cute, even if her godforsaken cat-ears have returned in the triple moon with a vengeance; this time they're blue, for some reason (which may or may not have to do with her weird two-toned anime hair), so she's attempted to co-ordinate her outfit to match the colours.
If she can't hide them, she may as well try to work with them. At least the overall effect isn't too hideous.
Speaking of hideous, Hilda's question immediately causes her to whip out her fan and hold it against her face, in a (failed) attempt to hide her embarrassment.]
Not...well, you see I...
[ugh.]
It's been so long since I've attended any formal gathering, other than the ball at Garreg Mach...and a school function is nothing compared to a real event such as this! I can't risk humiliating myself and casting shame on the Nuvelle family legacy!
[Give her....a minute....to explain the rest of her reasoning, because unfortunately there is another level to it...]
...that and. Well, I've had a number of experiences recently that....ugh...
[WHY IS THIS SO HARD!!]
I will need to find an appropriate suitor one day, so! You seem to know what you're doing, and...
[alright, she's just going to trail off now before she actually collapses from the. the everything]
[There are a myriad of ways to run into someone in this city. The Moonblessed do not always require some planet-shattering event, or some wide-scale phenomena to affect the city for them to meet, or form connections. Those who are social, outgoing, and friendly can manage it just fine.
It’s too bad that Sephiroth is usually considered none of the above.
Thankfully, there are other variables that will help him with that today. Mostly, it’s the fact that he decided to take a shortcut through a market square bursting with neon colors, the Lunatians all a-bustle with the vigor of excitable shoppers seeking a deal. He soon realizes that this “shortcut” is in name only, and changes course into an alley to avoid the main crowd, long strides bringing him there quickly.
Out the other end, and around a corner— and even Sephiroth’s reflexes do not make him immune from Bad Timing. He feels it against him, a jostle that barely moves his frame when he bumps into someone, but it’s enough to have the item he bought earlier today tumble out of his hands. This item is either:
A) a round container with a cartoon fish mascot printed on the front. Goldfish(?) food?
B) a bottle of shampoo in an unfortunately bright neon bottle. Rose scented.
C) a book; a collection of short, historical fiction, according to the spine. Considering where they are, this might as well be science-fiction.
Sephiroth could make the effort to stoop down low and catch the object before it collides into the pavement, but maybe this pink-haired young lady wants to do something about it first? Or, you know. Not. That works too.]
[Even the laziest people need to leave their (re: Lorenz's) apartment sometimes—and as Hilda loves to shop, of course Hilda makes, like, far too many trips to the different shopping areas around Lunatia, always on the hunt for the latest and the cutest Stuff. Accessories, mostly. If she's going to be stuck in this world for quite some time, it is imperative that she keeps up with the trends.
And it's also imperative that she, you know. Tries every shampoo + conditioner combo known to man, because holy shit, how did she ever survive a day without frizz control? A mystery she is, in fact, pondering as she walks down the street, idly swinging her shopping bag full of her latest shampoo finds...
...But while Hilda's head may be in the clouds, she's definitely less than half to blame for this collision. One second she's innocently walking along; the next she's running smack-dab into something—someone—tall and solid, and ooh, but if that isn't the worst.]
H-Hey!
[HEY! Back she stumbles—but she's too sturdy to fall, thank goodness, even when something bumps against her feet. Just give her a second to pinwheel in place before she (huffily) sticks her landing. Tall people! Damn! No consideration for their tiny brethren!]
You really should be more careful, you know, [she chides, bending down to pick up that mysterious Something.] You nearly knocked me over! And you dropped your—
[Oh. Well. Hmm. It's the bottle of shampoo, because of course it is—and of course she's looking up from it to the man before her, just. Blinking up at all of that hair. Like, the face is okay, sure, but the hair... she is Looking (and not holding that bottle out)...]
he sure does... a castmate gave it to him ages ago lmao
[Running into Sephiroth is a bit like hitting a brick wall, and even his reaction is hilariously similar. Immovable, barely affected, his expression still, stern, but not exactly disapproving. He regards this young woman and her shock of pink hair, eyes sliding down to the bottle of shampoo now clasped in her hand.
She seems offended, and maybe rightly so— Until she looks utterly distracted, like she’s suddenly lost focus on something far more interesting.]
…. [He helps her out with-] My shampoo.
[A gloved hand comes out, palm-up, to both regain her attention and wordlessly request the bottle back.]
[Hilda is stretched out on Lorenz's couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced atop her stomach as she watches her soaps—but no one needs to know that? Just like no one needs to know that she almost upends the entire bowl when the text catches her entirely by surprise, oop @ her. Technology... so weird...]
oh, marianne. i always have time for you! you can ask me anything 😊
Thank you, I'm sorry this is a little sudden, but Do you know if anyone from our home has tried to apply for work here?
[ as opposed to, have you tried to apply for work here because she knows that hilda would sooner stay at lorenz's apartment watching her soaps instead. ]
[Or: the one where Lorenz does not return to his own apartment all night, suspiciously, and finally does come home in like, the middle of the morning. That's what he's doing now, hastily shuffling in his own front door as quietly as possible so as not to alert the nosy neighbors (actually just the one) that he is Home Now.
He has only two goals: to change his outfit and pretend he was here all along. He has obviously been home from 6pm until now and anyone who believes otherwise is sorely mistaken? It's the truth. So there he goes, making a beeline right for his bedroom, not stopping to prepare breakfast for anybody in his empty apartment because it is sooo empty...]
[Did Hilda fall asleep on Lorenz's couch after watching who knows how many episodes of some trashy television show? ...Listen. That isn't important. What is important is the fact that Hilda is still on Lorenz's couch at, like, ten in the morning, buried beneath a (purple) blanket as she scrolls through Prismagram. She knows that Lorenz is not here; like, she went a-knockin' on his bedroom door an hour or so ago, just to a) see if he was alive, since he wasn't making a pointed ruckus in the kitchen and b) ask if he'd like to go to brunch, because you take a Hilda to a brunch spot one (1) time and she's ready to return ASAP. That's life.
But if Lorenz isn't here, there's undoubtedly a reason for it—and she wants to know. She needs to know, which is why she freezes mid-scroll when she hears the front door swing open. Oh, she could pop up now; she probably should, truth be told, but as Lorenz walks right past the couch without saying a word, she's fairly certain that means he has no idea she's here...
...And that makes it all the more fun! So. She listens for just a bit longer, waiting until she's sure he's almost to his bedroom before she swiftly frees herself from the blanket and sits upright. 3... 2... 1...]
Good morning, Lorenz! Or was it a good evening?
[Hi. Hello. Hilda is here, chin resting atop the back of the couch as she offers Lorenz an oh-so sunny smile.]
Lorenz startles and smacks his hand into the doorknob, so he will be suing her for both physical and emotional damages shortly. A wiser man would just continue right on his way into his room and choose to live under the delusion that Hilda is not right there apparently, but Lorenz is not a wiser man... He looks over his shoulder at her, frazzled, but know that he's got the full scope of Irritable employed when he turns all the way around.
So hold on just a second!!]
What are you doing here? Were you— That couch is mine, you know.
[ it's been a few days since marianne had holed herself up in her room with nothing but a quick text to hilda telling her where she'd be. despite being unprepared for the changes brought about by sanguis, she was glad she'd decided to do so; it's been a rough time, but she'd expected that after reading some posts on the network. she just didn't think how all-encompassing those changes could be.
at the very least, she didn't want to put hilda and the others at risk, and that was enough for her.
it's on her last day when she finally messages her again, now that she's regained the use of her hands, responding to the latest update of prisma bachelor and remainder. the girl she'd been rooting for didn't get the rose, but that's fine; she thanks hilda for watching the duchess while she was away and puts her device down, rubbing at tired eyes before getting up to wash her face. she has a feeling hilda may want to come by and she'd rather not look like she hadn't slept very much for the past few days, almost looking like how she did during their academy days. ]
[Hilda respects Marianne's boundaries; like, that simple text ensured that she didn't go a-knockin' on Marianne's door, even if she wasn't exactly thrilled about it—and even if she did, you know. Find a way around it by sending Marianne text after text, blabbering on about this or that. Normal things! Friendly things, because Hilda has been in this world long enough to know how some things work. Her own changes are easy, harmless; others, however, have a far more difficult time, and for Marianne...
...Well. Hilda is at brunch when she receives Marianne's first response, and let it be known that, while she typically enjoys a leisurely brunch, she hurries through the rest of the meal. If Marianne is responding, than Marianne is possibly available for visitors—and so Hilda needs to zip home after making one (1) quick stop. It's important.
And it doesn't take too long, all things considered, so soon she's finally doing what she's been dying to do all week: a-knockin' on Marianne's door with one hand, a small, pink, ribbon-adorned box held in the other.]
Marianne? It's just me! [A beat, and then, because Hilda is Hilda (and because Hilda knows that Marianne is HERE):] You're not going to leave me standing out here, are you? I have something for you—and they're so much better when they're fresh.
[Alas, Sylvain! She's had a packed schedule, what with trying boxed wine with Lorenz, and watching trashy television with Lorenz, and sneakily submitting Lorenz's poetry... without Lorenz, yes, but still. Busy, busy.]
wasn't that a nice way to say hello? you're welcome, by the way 😘
but i'm shocked! i didn't think i'd win. who's luckier... me, or you?
it's 9am now but it's weirdly late at the end of cordis in spirit
[1. Thanks for this tacit permission to continue calling Nugget... Nugget??? Not that she needed it, but the validation is nice. 2. Don't call her out like this!! 3. Boy.]
but i only want to ask you two questions 🥺🥺 maybe three? 🥺🥺🥺
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here's your mandatory auction thread now bc time is fake
Hilda's support is appreciated, maybe, but also maybe not really because—]
If I recall... That particular poem was disposed of for being of too low a quality to ever see the light of day! And yet, there it is! How interesting.
[That is just one of his many objections!!]
i haven't even picked her outfit yet... quelle horreur
Very interesting, [she agrees, tilting her glass this way and that was just to watch that strawberry bob about the bubbly.] Maybe you turned it in on your own? We both had a lot to drink that night... my memories are a liiiittle hazy.
[Oh, boxed wine! How they love thee.]
Or maybe someone realized that your poem was very good and turned it in for you? How nice of them.
[This is probably when Sylvain steps up to bid? Hilda is going to choke right here, right now.]
neither have i...... i don't know how to find ye olde outfits in all purple. help me
Oh, do you think so? [but he's still fool enough to fall for a compliment—] I'm sure that person is a better judge than me, the poet himself...
[Hildaaaa... ah, but this banter is immediately over the second he spots Sylvain. Were he an impolite man, he would shatter his wine glass instantly.]
Hilda. You must place a bid. As soon as possible, please.
time to venture onto ye olde pinterest
technically we have like 5 days
which means i will agonize over fits for four of em
i mean, respect the drip, so yeah
time to have 984334 tabs open... pink dresses in all of em
are you saying your browser isn't always like that
wow??? only 80% of the time
damn don't blast yourself so hard
i embrace my brand!!
don't we all
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1/2
Ah? Me? Aaa, nono. I think you have a mistake. You mean Kintoki. Surely there's a Kintoki in the house. Our names are similar..
[ Then for some reason, some reason this cute places a bid on him. Suddenly his reaction is different. A lot different. ]
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[ GINTOKI, WHY ARE YOU BIDDING ON HER? And why in yen? And why such a low amount? ]
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So she can't be blamed for bidding on this stranger simply because she wants to touch his ears? Just like she can't be blamed for... whatever it is said stranger is doing. The auctioneer looks at him, then at her—and she holds up a single finger. One minute, please! Is this, mayhaps... the beginning of a scheme...]
Three hundred! Oh, wow. [What the fuck is "yen?" Oh, well. Enjoy her most charming smile, Gin.] Is that the best you can do? Why not go for four hundred?
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i'm not late af, fidgey... time is fake
ur really not.. my lazy ass can take up to a week sometimes..
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please help her hilda-senpai
Besides, if she simply thought of it as another type of study, surely that would be okay!
...hopefully.]
Hilda....do you remember that evening when you mentioned teaching me how to....talk to...boys?
[You may have been tipsy so perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but...well...can't hurt to ask, at least...]
hilda is here for her kouhai!!
So let it be known that she's busily waving goodbye to... someone or another, when Constance sidles up to her. And let it also be known that she's always happy to see Constance, but ah, if that question doesn't catch her off guard.]
Oh? [Give her a second here, please, to recall their last soap opera viewing sesh—and then she's straightening her back, eyes widening as things clicking right into place.] Oh! Right. Of course I remember. How could I possibly forget?
[Sure, the the offer had been, like, half serious, half jest, but? But. As she tilts her champagne glass from one side to the other, letting the fizzy liquid slosh back and forth, her lips curve into a small smile. Constance is... cute? Constance is cute.]
Are you asking for a lesson now?
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If she can't hide them, she may as well try to work with them. At least the overall effect isn't too hideous.
Speaking of hideous, Hilda's question immediately causes her to whip out her fan and hold it against her face, in a (failed) attempt to hide her embarrassment.]
Not...well, you see I...
[ugh.]
It's been so long since I've attended any formal gathering, other than the ball at Garreg Mach...and a school function is nothing compared to a real event such as this! I can't risk humiliating myself and casting shame on the Nuvelle family legacy!
[Give her....a minute....to explain the rest of her reasoning, because unfortunately there is another level to it...]
...that and. Well, I've had a number of experiences recently that....ugh...
[WHY IS THIS SO HARD!!]
I will need to find an appropriate suitor one day, so! You seem to know what you're doing, and...
[alright, she's just going to trail off now before she actually collapses from the. the everything]
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that typo in my last tag... pours one out for good grammar
i pretend i do not see it (no i really didn't see it!!)
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a wild Sephiroth appears. (Action! ....lmk if this is too dumb lmao.)
It’s too bad that Sephiroth is usually considered none of the above.
Thankfully, there are other variables that will help him with that today. Mostly, it’s the fact that he decided to take a shortcut through a market square bursting with neon colors, the Lunatians all a-bustle with the vigor of excitable shoppers seeking a deal. He soon realizes that this “shortcut” is in name only, and changes course into an alley to avoid the main crowd, long strides bringing him there quickly.
Out the other end, and around a corner— and even Sephiroth’s reflexes do not make him immune from Bad Timing. He feels it against him, a jostle that barely moves his frame when he bumps into someone, but it’s enough to have the item he bought earlier today tumble out of his hands. This item is either:
A) a round container with a cartoon fish mascot printed on the front. Goldfish(?) food?
B) a bottle of shampoo in an unfortunately bright neon bottle. Rose scented.
C) a book; a collection of short, historical fiction, according to the spine. Considering where they are, this might as well be science-fiction.
Sephiroth could make the effort to stoop down low and catch the object before it collides into the pavement, but maybe this pink-haired young lady wants to do something about it first? Or, you know. Not. That works too.]
does he have a pet fish??? i'm losing it
And it's also imperative that she, you know. Tries every shampoo + conditioner combo known to man, because holy shit, how did she ever survive a day without frizz control? A mystery she is, in fact, pondering as she walks down the street, idly swinging her shopping bag full of her latest shampoo finds...
...But while Hilda's head may be in the clouds, she's definitely less than half to blame for this collision. One second she's innocently walking along; the next she's running smack-dab into something—someone—tall and solid, and ooh, but if that isn't the worst.]
H-Hey!
[HEY! Back she stumbles—but she's too sturdy to fall, thank goodness, even when something bumps against her feet. Just give her a second to pinwheel in place before she (huffily) sticks her landing. Tall people! Damn! No consideration for their tiny brethren!]
You really should be more careful, you know, [she chides, bending down to pick up that mysterious Something.] You nearly knocked me over! And you dropped your—
[Oh. Well. Hmm. It's the bottle of shampoo, because of course it is—and of course she's looking up from it to the man before her, just. Blinking up at all of that hair. Like, the face is okay, sure, but the hair... she is Looking (and not holding that bottle out)...]
he sure does... a castmate gave it to him ages ago lmao
She seems offended, and maybe rightly so— Until she looks utterly distracted, like she’s suddenly lost focus on something far more interesting.]
…. [He helps her out with-] My shampoo.
[A gloved hand comes out, palm-up, to both regain her attention and wordlessly request the bottle back.]
You’re still standing on your feet. No harm done.
hilda needs to learn this deep seph lore
this thread is already killing me, i can't believe hilda
jen, we will pretend that i am not late... and that hilda is not an absolute gremlin
elia.....i cannot talk about ppl being late... gestures at this tag
closes my eyes.... text; forward dated to like after the intro or w/e time is just a concept
[ she knows... her name likely shows up on hilda's caller id or whatever but listen, she's still getting used to this ok. ]
If you aren't busy, I was wondering if I could ask you something
time is fake, as we all know
oh, marianne. i always have time for you!
you can ask me anything 😊
[Ya girl mastered emojis her first week.]
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Thank you, I'm sorry this is a little sudden, but
Do you know if anyone from our home has tried to apply for work here?
[ as opposed to, have you tried to apply for work here because she knows that hilda would sooner stay at lorenz's apartment watching her soaps instead. ]
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it's the walk of shame thread, time has no meaning this was like a week ago ig
He has only two goals: to change his outfit and pretend he was here all along. He has obviously been home from 6pm until now and anyone who believes otherwise is sorely mistaken? It's the truth. So there he goes, making a beeline right for his bedroom, not stopping to prepare breakfast for anybody in his empty apartment because it is sooo empty...]
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But if Lorenz isn't here, there's undoubtedly a reason for it—and she wants to know. She needs to know, which is why she freezes mid-scroll when she hears the front door swing open. Oh, she could pop up now; she probably should, truth be told, but as Lorenz walks right past the couch without saying a word, she's fairly certain that means he has no idea she's here...
...And that makes it all the more fun! So. She listens for just a bit longer, waiting until she's sure he's almost to his bedroom before she swiftly frees herself from the blanket and sits upright. 3... 2... 1...]
Good morning, Lorenz! Or was it a good evening?
[Hi. Hello. Hilda is here, chin resting atop the back of the couch as she offers Lorenz an oh-so sunny smile.]
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Lorenz startles and smacks his hand into the doorknob, so he will be suing her for both physical and emotional damages shortly. A wiser man would just continue right on his way into his room and choose to live under the delusion that Hilda is not right there apparently, but Lorenz is not a wiser man... He looks over his shoulder at her, frazzled, but know that he's got the full scope of Irritable employed when he turns all the way around.
So hold on just a second!!]
What are you doing here? Were you— That couch is mine, you know.
[Issue 1: who let you in, gurl.]
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idk like 5/5 or something
at the very least, she didn't want to put hilda and the others at risk, and that was enough for her.
it's on her last day when she finally messages her again, now that she's regained the use of her hands, responding to the latest update of prisma bachelor and remainder. the girl she'd been rooting for didn't get the rose, but that's fine; she thanks hilda for watching the duchess while she was away and puts her device down, rubbing at tired eyes before getting up to wash her face. she has a feeling hilda may want to come by and she'd rather not look like she hadn't slept very much for the past few days, almost looking like how she did during their academy days. ]
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...Well. Hilda is at brunch when she receives Marianne's first response, and let it be known that, while she typically enjoys a leisurely brunch, she hurries through the rest of the meal. If Marianne is responding, than Marianne is possibly available for visitors—and so Hilda needs to zip home after making one (1) quick stop. It's important.
And it doesn't take too long, all things considered, so soon she's finally doing what she's been dying to do all week: a-knockin' on Marianne's door with one hand, a small, pink, ribbon-adorned box held in the other.]
Marianne? It's just me! [A beat, and then, because Hilda is Hilda (and because Hilda knows that Marianne is HERE):] You're not going to leave me standing out here, are you? I have something for you—and they're so much better when they're fresh.
[Let her bribe you to check up on you, ma'am. :/]
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Time has no meaning, it's the Auction Thread
Hey, by the way?
And congratulations? I know just where all to take you~
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wasn't that a nice way to say hello?
you're welcome, by the way 😘
but i'm shocked!
i didn't think i'd win.
who's luckier... me, or you?
it's 9am now but it's weirdly late at the end of cordis in spirit
Hilda
Please make sure Nugget has eaten his food and not made a horrific mess like the other day.
I will not be back until morning. Do not ask me a dozen questions about this, I am busy.
Also please refrain from making faces, I know you. Whatever you've decided I am doing, I am not.
[The real concession here is that he's embraced the Nugget Name tm. Anyway: do not.]
it's cordis time somewhere... prisma jimmy buffet playing in the bg
but i only want to ask you two questions 🥺🥺
maybe three? 🥺🥺🥺
[Nugget has, like. Five. Get ready for that.]
we living on island time now baybee
would lorenz wear a hawaiian shirt? the people want to know
if it was bespoke, maybe
is a custom airbrushed beach tshirt ft a rose bespoke
it COULD be
they need those shirts asap
make it happen
don't tempt me, i WILL come crashing into his inbox for novelty tshirts
she says, like she won't inevitably anyway
no subject
[Voice is hard. Socializing is hard. Talking to someone he doesn't know is hard, but Lorenz is worth it, so here they are.]
Am I speaking to a Hilda?
[she probably has like ten last names but so does everyone in lorenz's world, it's fine.]