It's not much of a response, but you don't have much to say.
The fuck are you supposed to be talking about? You've skimmed his and Liyiji's conversations before, curious about the sheer amount of time your pitypal's wasted talking to a fucking rusty, but you were disappointed to find it's mostly just books, books, books.
(And Liyiji trying to troll for information on Pheres's caste. Miracles, your friends are all a bunch of dumbasses. Since when has a seadweller ever had a rack that size?)
You could start flapping about books. You've raided enough from the crypts underneath the Academy over the sweeps: your hive is practically bristling with them and other old shit you thought seemed interesting enough at the time. But the only book you read on the regular is the Book of Rhymes, and Pheres doesn't seem the sort to be interested in religious fucking philosophy.
Most folks aren't. Well, it fucking sucks to be them: you've got a hive full of Mirthful that actually know what shit's worth gabbing over.
But that stray thought reminds you of something, and you peer down at him, frowning. "Hey, fourhorns," you say, "where the fuck are you staying at?"
no subject
It's not much of a response, but you don't have much to say.
The fuck are you supposed to be talking about? You've skimmed his and Liyiji's conversations before, curious about the sheer amount of time your pitypal's wasted talking to a fucking rusty, but you were disappointed to find it's mostly just books, books, books.
(And Liyiji trying to troll for information on Pheres's caste. Miracles, your friends are all a bunch of dumbasses. Since when has a seadweller ever had a rack that size?)
You could start flapping about books. You've raided enough from the crypts underneath the Academy over the sweeps: your hive is practically bristling with them and other old shit you thought seemed interesting enough at the time. But the only book you read on the regular is the Book of Rhymes, and Pheres doesn't seem the sort to be interested in religious fucking philosophy.
Most folks aren't. Well, it fucking sucks to be them: you've got a hive full of Mirthful that actually know what shit's worth gabbing over.
But that stray thought reminds you of something, and you peer down at him, frowning. "Hey, fourhorns," you say, "where the fuck are you staying at?"