03 | text

[deadtective]

I was going to apologize for throwing more inane bullshit on here, but since we're all going to be dying of plague soon I guess it's actually kind of topical. Get out while you still can, you know?

Anyway. Has anyone from an earth like this visited their home here? Was that kind of fun or just massively depressing?

And uh, I guess if the overwhelming answer is depressing I'm also taking vacation recommendations. I'm not really picky as long as it's somewhere kind of quiet and thought provoking. Someplace you can clear your head, you know?

Comments

[cephalothorax]

Hey, that's true. I'll concede that point. But only that point.

So if I use spades as background, does that mean I'm into death? Or is that clubs...

[deadtective]

Get used to it, there's more like it in the future.

No, that would be something like this.

[cephalothorax]

That just says pyromaniac.

[deadtective]

That would be this, actually.

[cephalothorax]

I'm sure I see how the messages from those two differ.

[deadtective]

One's an explosion and one's fire. It's pretty clear.

[cephalothorax]

Not really! The first one could easily be a fire creeping up from below and then bellowing back down.

[deadtective]

Sounds like I'm learning stuff about you from your text preferences after all.

[cephalothorax]

Oh? Like what?

[deadtective]

You are really upset that your current house didn't include a built-in fireplace.

[cephalothorax]

How do you even know if it didn't?

[deadtective]

Supernatural intuition. It's amazing what useless information you can find out.

[cephalothorax]

But what if I said it did?

After all, I own the house, I chose it myself. If I wanted a fireplace, wouldn't I just get one?

[deadtective]

Maybe none with fireplaces were for sale when you were buying. Or maybe you didn't realize how many cocktail weenies you'd be stuffing into your freezer every weekend.

[cephalothorax]

[WOW, HAZEL HAVE YOU SEEN HIS ADS, HE IS NOT A MAN WHO EATS COCKTAIL WEENIES

no thats a lie he would totally eat cocktail weenies.]

I could sell this house and get another oen if it means that much to me.

[deadtective]

[there is no one alive and capable of consuming food who wouldn't stuff their face with cocktail weenies. this is immutable fact.]

Well, get on it! No need to take it out on poor innocent text options because you're too lazy to call up a realtor.

[cephalothorax]

But I don't actually care about fireplaces.

[deadtective]

I'd like to think we've reached the point in our relationship where you don't have to lie to me like that.

[cephalothorax]

Oh, I don't know. Maybe I like being deceptive. Maybe I'm a huge liar!

[deadtective]

Lying about your insatiable lust for fireplaces would make you more of a tiny liar, I think. A tiny, cold liar.

[cephalothorax]

Let's say my house has central heating. Then I wouldn't be cold at all, in this hypothetical scenario, thus making you wrong.

[deadtective]

Your soul would be cold.

[cephalothorax]

[...]

[If Chrollo were the sort of person who would crack the fuck up, he'd be laughing like crazy right now.]

Wow that's pretty dramatic of you.

[deadtective]

[just get it over with now, Chrollo. this is just going to keep happening the more you continue to engage Hazel in any conversation.]

I'm just stating facts from a situation you created. Don't blame me.

[cephalothorax]

Sorry, I don't think I created it! You're the one inventing wild tales about my desperate yearning for a fireplace.