ｖｏｉｃｅ.

[clario]

[ so baby's gone. the one person she had any kind of rapport with. sweet pea doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry. she had done a bit of both and wondered when the hell she turned into such a sensitive flower.

baby's departure doesn't mean shit in the long run. sweet pea's still here and she still needs to get back, though it seems more and more like she should only wait until she is sent back—because she has to be. she cannot entertain another thought.

but it's only now hitting her how very alone she is. no family, no friends. no rocket, no baby, not even amber or blondie. she keeps to her room, cleaning her weapons. when she feels in control, she turns on the tablet. ]

Babydoll's gone. [ sweet pea manages to keep a brisk tone of voice. it's even convincing. ] She said she'd had some things going with some of you. Whatever it was, let me know and I'll do my best to hold up her end of the bargain.

[ a little pause. her otherwise professional veneer cracks. ]

If you didn't meet her, you missed your fucking chance.


locked to ROBB
Think we can we move our practice up to today? I could use the exercise.

Comments

[clario]

Will you still like me when my hair's white?

[bumbles]

All sorts of um, g-good things are white. Like uh, snow? Or-- ice c-cream, or um, p-pearls. Z--Zebra stripes. And uh, m-marshmallows and there's um, albino animals are really c-cool. Like that white k-kiwi? Or uh-- ( Hang on, he's trying to think of stuff that isn't food. ) Primed canvases b-before you p-put-- put any paint on. ( Uhhh. ) Snowdrop flowers. And, um-- iPhones?

( A shrug, somewhere between playful and earnest. More quietly than the first time, ) P-plenty of g-good stuff is white.

[clario]

[ that is painfully adorable. donny, please. ]

Primed canvases. Do you paint?

[bumbles]

N-not um, not m-much. I d-draw. And--

( An awkward gesture, like his hands were rolling a sphere between them. ) Sculpt? K-kinda.

[clario]

Could you draw me?

[bumbles]

( Do not make a Titanic joke, do not make a Titanic joke, do not make a Titanic joke, do not make a Titanic joke...

Donny makes a quiet sound in his throat, and nods. )

Yeah. Of c-course.

( Good work, Donny. )

[clario]

[ you're not as smooth as you think you are, bro. ]

Something funny?

[bumbles]

( save him )

N-no. Nope, n-not-- funny.

( But the sentence totally hitched up a little at the end, there, like a question. )

[clario]

Out with it, future boy. [ she elbows him. ] What's funny?

[bumbles]

( Oof. A bit of a look. ) There's j-just-- a m-movie.

( He totally does not have to explain this, right? ) About uh, the T-- Titanic? And uh, a g-girl asks this g-guy to draw her.

( welp wow look at these fries are these fries not amazing wow )