(no subject)

[selfwound]

WHAT Last chance for timefuck except not really
WHERE Wherever
WHEN Day 127, whenever

[So, you've been messing around with time.]

[Okay, we've actually been doing that, yeah. Quiet Mounds is still a bit unpredictable, with the seasons and the clocks a little haywire. Today, there's another little pulse of magic. Maybe some of you find yourself back to normal? Or maybe more people are suddenly the wrong age or timeline. Maybe Deadpool shows up. I don't know.]

[Last post for deage/age-up/etc event, though obviously you can continue to backthread or play at your leisure after this.]

Comments

[turnonmycharm]

[comes over a few minutes later with tea Booth, coffee for himself]

Here.

[curatorrid]

Thank you. [takes it, cupping his hands around it] You're, er. An... incubus?

[turnonmycharm]

In the flesh. As it were.

[curatorrid]

S-so we're. Ah.

[turnonmycharm]

Long-term lovers.

[curatorrid]

[looks at him in confused, hungry disbelief]

Ah. I-is that s-s-so. A-a-and I ap-parently, ah, tell you, t-things.

[turnonmycharm]

[I want to just fuck you over this table]

Right. We talk about a lot.

[curatorrid]

[gives him this look like that's way more difficult to believe than the rest of it]

[turnonmycharm]

[just grins at him]

I know, I know. Let's just say I know you're bright, and I help loosen your tongue enough that it can come across.

[curatorrid]

I'm n-not bright.

[turnonmycharm]

. . .

[just sighs and takes a sip of coffee]

[curatorrid]

[watches him thoughtfully, like he's trying to understand something here]

[turnonmycharm]

Booth . . .?

[curatorrid]

I d-don't think brightness i-is the ability to, ah, to. To solve... problems. T-to recall i-information.

[turnonmycharm]

What do you think it is?

[curatorrid]

T-the n-natural ability to, er, to be... interesting about, ah, the things you know.

[turnonmycharm]

So there you go.

[curatorrid]

I-I...

[oh he looks hungry again]

[turnonmycharm]

[giving him a pretty hungry look in return, fingers tightening around his mug]

. . .

[curatorrid]

I-it sounds... very, er. Nice. I... [makes a face at himself, then takes a shaky sip of tea] Just... I don't know how to. Er. Believe that.

[turnonmycharm]

It's fine if you don't. I have no reason to lie, but you've got no reason to believe me.

[curatorrid]

I, I just don't, ah, know why things would... change?

[turnonmycharm]

Which things?

[curatorrid]

My...self.

[turnonmycharm]

. . . people change. Circumstances change.