Event Post

[azuremagma]

Cyril is sitting at a defunct bus stop (day), a park (day), or on the docks (night) in his full form and regalia. To be honest? He looks like shit. Hair is a mess and he's grown out a penance beard that makes him look like a crazy homeless man dressed in Babylonian garb. He mashes buttons on a tablet, muttering to himself as he types. 'Hey nerds, I'm ba-no, that sounds like I dun like this place. Tread the line carefully...' or 'Fuck, I'm sorry I fucked us up, that last duel ya did was pretty fuckin' balls, but I know you can do b-Ugh, fuck that, jus' ain't gonna talk ta 'er.' or! 'Down but never out, the badd-agh, fuck, I am out though. Fire fades an' that 'appy shit...'

Comments

[azuremagma]

"... I mean, she's usually the go-to person for weird shit an' does... fairly well, given uh. Who an' what she's a fusion of."

[memoryistime]

Well, yes. Which does make it harder to find new avenues of advice about this.

But, again. She knows about the problem. In fact she knew about it before I did, and swore that she had told me. ... She apologized for that part, at least.

[azuremagma]

"...Did she... take that memory outta yer... 'ead?" He considers, Samasus. Problems that are the kid's business, not a public safety hazard. Nods to himself. He's probably seen it before.

"Think she's the leading expert on yer family an' teen problems 'round 'ere. Might ask the k-... Guess 'e ain't a kid. Geo. That crew might be able ta 'elp ya out. 'ell, might be able ta 'elp yer kid out."

[memoryistime]

No no. Probably not.

I'll think about it, at least. It sorta depends on the whole "do they or do they not want to know me" deal, too.

I mean, I kinda expect they don't want to know, but that's me and figuring no one would want to know me.