hagalaz | video ✺ And the arm bone's connected to the -- uhhh. Where -- oh, no. Oh, no?

[fehus]

[what's up MoM? have a somber looking blond teen with grey eyes, who appears to be sitting in the treetops]

Hey. Um, it's Magnus. Chase. Considering peoples' arms are dropping off in the street and powers are going nuts and old battle wounds are blasting open in supermarkets and ruining all the clementines and shit, I think it might be good if everybody knew how to get in touch with their friendly local healer. Uh, I'm one of those, but I'm like, also just one demi-dude, so if any healers willing to help out would respond to this post with a text about how their powers work and what cities they're usually in, we can figure out maybe kind of a rotation? Just to help people not go full Ron of the Dead, until somebody figures out how to fix the nanites. I'll leave a place in the post to put your info.

And everybody else, like, consider this an imPort-911 post? All the healers can track it so we can have better response times. And you can get in touch with specific healers if like, there's a specific need.

Uh, Nurse Chase out.

[have a deadpan peace sign, and then the feed going black]

Comments

[fehus]

Alex is charismatic. Everyone can't help but look at her, she's totally entrancing. I just have weird boner ma -- divine fertility influence. There's definitely a difference.

[pummelgranite]

[ Persephone quietly mouths "totally entrancing" to herself. Oh my god, boy. ]

Whatever you want to call it, it's a part of you. You don't need to be afraid of it.

[fehus]

I'm not afraid. I'm uncomfortable. Casual acquaintances talking about my lips makes me uncomfortable.

[yeah, it would be good if Inanna was here]

[pummelgranite]

[ Oh. Ooooh. ]

People are always going to do that. Tell them to fuck off when they need to fuck off.

[fehus]

I would. But it's not their fault if my boner magic is on the fritz. See?

[pummelgranite]

Boner magic is not consent. You don't have to put up with creeping if you don't want it.

[fehus]

That's a good t-shirt for your next concert.

[fehus]

I'll shut it down if I need to. I think right now it's in the category of "compliments I'm too weird to accept" and not "you got a perdy mouth."

[pummelgranite]

We can see if the "Fuck you Batman" crowd is into it.

So what is the deal with your sexual repression anyway?

SLAMS PRIVATE ONTO THIS THREAD

[fehus]

Uhhhhhhhahaha.

[pummelgranite]

Uh hhhhhuh...?

[fehus]

I'm not repressed and I know about it. Sex. Please don't be one of the ten people trying to tell me about condoms.

[pummelgranite]

I trust Alex to know what a condom is.

[fehus]

I trust Alex, fullstop.

[...]

Nothing happened to me. I mean, stuff happened to me but it wasn't -- you know. That didn't happen. I just didn't really... stuff happened, I was homeless and I died. So I don't see myself... so I don't like being touched. Or I have to work up to, to stuff. With the people I do want to touch. Friends, Alex.

That's the deal.

[trauma.]

[pummelgranite]

Oh.

[ NICE PERSEPHONE. SMOOTH AS HELL. ]

I dunno if I can help you with that. Inanna'd be better.

[fehus]

[I don't need help, he thinks, I'm fine, is what would usually come out, but this isn't just anybody. it's Persephone. Persephone never offers to help. it's soft surprise, not judgement, when his response is instead;]

You want to help me?

[pummelgranite]

Do you want me to help you? Seems like it bothers you.

[fehus]

Being helped?

[...]

I don't need sympathy, or pity. I'm just another teenage trauma statistic, or whatever. But I don't -- mind, help from my friends. I need it a lot of the time. I'm -- a weak person. Can't fight, can't touch, whatever.

[an uncomfortable shrug. there's a careful way, that Magnus speaks about himself, which is that -- he doesn't like to. but that's changing, slowly, with his friends]

If it's you, it's okay. If that's okay.

[pummelgranite]

No, I meant-

[ She had meant that talking about sex seemed to bother him.
But this works too. She huffs. ]

You're not a statistic, y'know.

[ She gets it. Self-examination feels like anesthetized self-surgery, and accepting help is almost worse. ]

[fehus]

[he cocks his head, eyebrows drawing together in something like (but really, sort of definitely not) amusement]

Homeless queerish teen dies young? Homeless queerish teen damaged goods in bed? Homeless queerish teen has trust issues? I dunno, sounds like reports that've been filed a shit-ton to me.

[pummelgranite]

Fuck the reports. You're you, not the bullshit that's happened to you.

[fehus]

I get that. But I think -- the bullshit takes parts of you away. I was different. Then I was empty. Now I'm -- I dunno. Working on it. Explaining to people over and over, that I don't like hugs.

[pummelgranite]

Mm. [ Oh she CERTAINLY gets that too. Just. it's kind of hard to say out loud except in mindfuck song form. ]


You also don't have to like hugs if you don't want to, y'know. I'll probably still give you shit but you don't actually have to be a slut to be my friend.

[fehus]

[that surprises a laugh out of him]

What's the opposite of slut-shaming? Slut-faming?

[he scratches at his hair, ruffling it]

-- I do. Want to. Like them. Is the thing. I want people to know, when I appreciate them. Words aren't always enough. Sometimes you don't have the... right ones, or, whatever.

[pummelgranite]

Uh huh. I know.


Fuck words, mostly.