She... fuck. It's--it's what's his face. She was just talking about him yesterday. Replaced the old Warden, turned into a kitten once, almost burnt to death in her trailer. Kidnapped. Fuck. Shit.
"I definitely can't let him leave here...." she mumbles, but by that point he's already gone.
Except she can still hear him. He's still here.
And why is that?
"Hey, bones!" she calls out gaily, though she immediately wishes she'd picked like, any other way to say that. That even felt lame, and she never feels like she's said anything lame, because identity and its subjective qualities as perceived by others are all performative anyway. She isn't in a hurry to run after him--not yet. Instead she falls back towards the ladder, raising her voice to shout into the torchlit caverns instead. "What're you doing here? Someone just told me you were trying to copy my style...!"
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Oh. Oh. Oh...??
She... fuck. It's--it's what's his face. She was just talking about him yesterday. Replaced the old Warden, turned into a kitten once, almost burnt to death in her trailer. Kidnapped. Fuck. Shit.
"I definitely can't let him leave here...." she mumbles, but by that point he's already gone.
Except she can still hear him. He's still here.
And why is that?
"Hey, bones!" she calls out gaily, though she immediately wishes she'd picked like, any other way to say that. That even felt lame, and she never feels like she's said anything lame, because identity and its subjective qualities as perceived by others are all performative anyway. She isn't in a hurry to run after him--not yet. Instead she falls back towards the ladder, raising her voice to shout into the torchlit caverns instead. "What're you doing here? Someone just told me you were trying to copy my style...!"