ic inbox

[headjacked]

Heyyyyyyyy, kiddo, you've reached me. Me who is Rhys. Anyway, not sure why you're trying to get in contact with the king of the dweebs, but I'm sure you've got your reasons. Reasons you should probably re-examine. I'm just sayin'.

Last chance to back out.

No?

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Comments

[headjacked]

A minute, huh?

[ Rhys looks incredulous. As if any of their conversations could span a minute. Conversations outside of the one-offf dork/brat exchanges.

He gets up, tucking Dumpy next to the stablords before moving to a baby robot free location. ]

Where - where do you wanna start?

I GOT NO NOTIF FOR THIS JSYK

[phaseshifter]

Uh. Perhaps with the obvious. I'm sorry that future me was such a - an asshole about the Dumpy stuff.

[ "The Dumpy stuff" being the least awful way she can think of to say "the way you carried the lil dude's corpse around everywhere like the saddest metal security blanket." ]

I - uh, she did care. Which was kinda the problem? Seeing him around like that made it hard not to, and I was worried about how it was affecting you and-- just. Sorry. For that.