text ↪ un: torontonian

[hallowing]

important q


if u were a dnd character


what class would u be



if u dont know wat dnd is (wow sorry for ur life) a class will be assigned for u randomly. no i dont make the rules.

Comments

[hallowing]

bard. singer. plays instruments. quick witted. horny. can do the macarena with they dick.

dragons sure the fuck do exist but not on every world so maybe ur from one of the boring ones!!

[blyat]

thats totally wrong

ugh
look, im getting used to the whole 'other world' shit
so theyre not real in MINE, we got enough to deal with anyway, i dont want em
they exist in yours?

[hallowing]

sorry abt ur boring dick.

yea they do.

lotta other things too.

magic, demons, vampires, gods. usual suspects.

[blyat]

give me a list ill pick for myself

are you fucking serious? youre joking

[hallowing]

（ have an ic link, cain. ）

nope.

i've got magic myself. pretty rad.

[blyat]

fighter
or ranger i guess

[bruh]

does everyone have it?

[hallowing]

both very hot choices, a++

and no not everyone.

some is innate

some is taught

but in either case u need an aptitude for it

[blyat]

figures

let me guess, only some are lucky enough to be good at it

[hallowing]

yepperoni.

can't all play for the leafs.

[blyat]

the what

you talk so weird

[hallowing]

hurtful!!

the leafs. i guess if ur not from my era on earth that would mean jack and shit to u.

sports team. play hockey. part of my cultural identity u know?

notoriously terrible but what can i say, i root for the underdog.

[blyat]

youre all from earth, huh
most of you

yeah i dont know it
forget it
probably wouldnt make sense anyway

tell me about the magic instead

[hallowing]

i live on earth.

not from there tho. ✌️

my magic's called transmatting. or at least that's what i call it.

i can teleport. me, stuff. u know. as u do.

[blyat]

ok, so where are you from

teleportation? thats not what i expected
the only thing ive seen like that was technology
but it kinda worked like magic i guess

[hallowing]

place called chinoon.

and yea i mean that's a common trope

'magic is just sufficiently advanced technology' or whatever it is. idr who came up with that. some author or whatever, idk. i've read like 2 books in my entire life and one was the bible LORD AMEN 🙏🙏🙏

[blyat]

never heard of it

[unsurprisingly, at this point]

just dont preach shit at me, i dont care about that stuff
can you show me? the 'transmatting' or whatever

[hallowing]

u don't want to hear the word of my lord and saviour taylor swift??? smh i think that means we can't be friends.

sure

take a pic of wherever u are. and don't freak out when i pop in after.

[blyat]

we were never gonna be friends

[JUST TEAMMATES WITH A COMMON GOAL!! leave him alone weirdo

It's an outlandish request, but he's curious enough to test it. Cain leans against the wall where he's come to stop outside the infirmary—after finishing a checkup on the health of his healing midsection—so he takes a quick, snapshot image of the surrounding hallway. It takes a few moments despite the ease of technology, just because he's still getting accustomed to the earpiece.]

got it?

↪ acshunnn baybee

[hallowing]

（ well, he's just not gonna take that personally.

but between one moment and the next and he just. appears, out of curling tendrils of violet-tinged darkness and crackles of an energy that give the impression of the cold immensity of space. there's something eldritch about it, and the smell in the air is like gunsmoke and some unidentifiable accompaniment. cy is midstep, and when his foot touches down there is a brief flare of the energy, and then it snaps off as abruptly as if a switch were flicked.

he's eating an apple in the most obnoxious manner one can possibly eat an apple, and he gives cain a jaunty little wink. ）

Magic enough for you, honey?

😳

[blyat]

[It spooks him. Even anticipating it, enough of a shred of doubt remains to make Cain jolt backward, knocking his shoulder against the wall.]

Fuck, you just— [he cuts himself off,] I... holy shit. Ugh. [Okay, no. He wasn't prepared at all.] I didn't think it'd work. What the hell...

[Are you. Not only does the sudden act of appearing out of thin air rub all of Cain's nerves the wrong direction, it feels more ominous and otherworldly than that, a sense of dread incongruent to the ordinary conversation they were just having. This is a man, tall and by all accounts outwardly human. Struggling for the dregs of his composure—]

And it's Cain. Don't call me that.

[hallowing]

（ cy gives the guy a bit of a knowing look, but he's not going to press the issue. instead, there's a faint shift to his body language. can't do anything about the height, but at least he can cut a less imposing figure, so — he slouches, free hand tucked into his slacks. shoulders sloped down. his shirt is violently hawaiian, hideous in a way that looks like he scrounged it out of karl lagerfield's fucking dumpster.

as for that apple? he eats it core and all.

(you never really forget what it's like to starve.) ）

Cy. Notable for also being the thing people do when they see me coming.

（ sigh, geddit? ）

[blyat]

[The shirt is atrocious, and yet Cain's eyes are glued to it in a morbid kind of fascination, because he's never seen colors so brightly patterned in his life. And the apple... actually, it looked good. He'll have to remember to go through the kitchen later; maybe it'll be better than the Sleipnir's cafeteria. Real fruit is a privilege disallowed Alliance soldiers, particularly fighters, and forget having it back home.

But first, this guy.]

Can you just do that with any picture? How? [He parts from the wall, moving closer like a wary cat to circle around Cy, expecting the trick to tell itself.] Where do you get the 'magic' from?

[hallowing]

More or less.

（ it's harder that way. but the station is small, and he's already wandered around the whole of the place in riotous boredom not entirely unlike a stray cat himself. so he had a pretty good idea of where cain was by the picture alone. ）

Oh, I've got an ancient god stuck in my brain that I use like a really gnarly battery. Just juice that fucker up, bam, magic.

（ he says that with such irreverent flippancy it has the taste of an obvious lie. after a moment he laughs, and then: ）

Nah, I have no idea. It's been like that long as I can remember. I guess my parents, but that was a long time ago. I'm a lot older than I look. Magic users are a centuries not decades breed.

[blyat]

[Haha. Funny joke. He doesn't buy it for a second. ]

Wait, so how old are you? [Cain stops, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest—then dropped to hands on hips, wince badly masked as he agitates the injury concealed beneath bandages and clothes.] 'Cause you look... pretty young. Normal.

[This is all a bizarre situation, but he's beginning to suspect it is one he'll need to get used to. There are a lot of strange, unnatural people on the station, seemingly far more powerful than himself for the simple fact of that magic. A thought that sits uneasy now.]

Fuck, I need a cigarette. [Already patting down his pockets to fish one out.] This is too weird.

[hallowing]

Uh, depends. What's your metric for a year?

（ look, some places are longer than others. some don't even bother with the concept at all. ）

I'd have to do a conversion. And fuck yeah, smoke away. I won't judge. But a word to the wise — if you see that fucking nannybot, run.