(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

[curatorrid]

[blinks] What are... where do the pages go?

[turnonmycharm]

They're electricity. Data. It basically just stores information in a very small space based on electricity, technology, and then displays to you letters and patterns.

[curatorrid]

F-fascinating.... S-so much could be d-done...

[turnonmycharm]

Right? It's fascinating.

[curatorrid]

T-the preservation of texts alone...

[turnonmycharm]

[winding an arm around him lightly]

Endless possibilities.

[curatorrid]

[seems surprised to not dislike that? Leans into it]

[turnonmycharm]

[what are you feeling right now, babe]

[curatorrid]

[50% crush 30% panic attack 20% excitement]

[turnonmycharm]

You can borrow this if you'd like.

[curatorrid]

M-maybe later...?

[turnonmycharm]

. . .

[tugs him a little closer]

Sure.

[curatorrid]

[a.allows that, leaning in a little]

[turnonmycharm]

[sighs softly]

Why don't we go somewhere quieter?

[curatorrid]

I. I would like that. I-if that isn't—

[turnonmycharm]

I'd like it.

[curatorrid]

A-after you.

[turnonmycharm]

[he leads the way, still casual, hands in his pockets]

[curatorrid]

[so uncasual he's wheezing a little, but following]

I. Like. How you think. About books.

[turnonmycharm]

[looks surprised, then abruptly lights up in a smile]

[curatorrid]

[oh he. he blushes very hard]

[turnonmycharm]

Thank you. That means a lot.

[curatorrid]

A-ah, well, I. I. So does. Your sharing, er, your sharing it.

[turnonmycharm]

[ducks his head, leaning in to kiss Booth very lightly]

[curatorrid]

[he freezes up, but not because he doesn't want to; he just doesn't know how. He lets out a soft sound]