[Keith's just wrapped up an hour and a half of a project that involved a tinfoil-like substance, random wires and rocks, an empty can (whats with him and empty cans???), string...
He's already in a terrible mood, unable to build anything that could pick up on any sounds from space (or emit any, for that matter), so when he heads into the living room to retire for the night only to find Goldilocks in his spot, he's...
Unamused.]
Not happening.
[As if them switching places for a night would be the worst thing to ever occur. How dare he have an opportunity to sleep on a mattress, lest his ego take a blow. He meanders nearer, since Lance seems unresponsive.]
Lance.
[He reaches over to seize a shoulder -- only to quickly withdraw, open palming a hot stove. Is that a tourniquet? Why does he look he's been dragged around by a horse?
[ he was so close to accessing that sweet, sweet bliss known as the REM cycle, only to be rudely interrupted by some loudmouth...
hang on.
he's the only loudmouth around here...!
he stirs, but only slightly, just enough that part of his face can be seen. one hand flops uselessly in the air, attempting to wave the buzzing fly away. ]
[But what the fuck? He's in worst shape than the time they'd both decided to donate blood. Like, their combined efforts at the blood bank wouldn't even equal his state. He did gallivant around with a tourniquet attached to his arm for a good portion of that night -- all besides the point.]
What are you-- [Wrong question.] What happened to you?!
[He's urging Lance to sit up, hurriedly parking his ass in the space he's creating by forcing Lance to do just that.
This isn't even about stealing his bed anymore. He'd assume this all had to do with something blatantly idiotic, but he's not wearing his fishnets.
[ okay so, all of this? totally not helping with that whole "trying to sleep" thing. so when he's suddenly picked up and made to sit upright, he grunts in obvious discontent. at least it manages to wrench his eyes open. sorta open.
he peers at keith with the most petulant of frowns. ]
Hey... this is my room now... getout.
[ yeah he's gonna try and twist away from keith now, rolling onto his side and tipping towards the other end of the couch. ]
[Discernible even in the dim light. The dim-I'm-Almost-Ready-For-Beddy-But-I-Still-Have-To-Brush-My-Teeth light. The source is probably a children's night light. He'll catch Lance's opposite, furthest shoulder -- trying to do so carefully, but it's kinda hard with him pressing his weight all sideways?!]
Why are you bleeding?
[They should move this party to the bathroom, not to confuse this with their hot shower fiasco...but that's where the bandages and such are located.]
Come on, we're getting up.
[Manually strewing Lance's arm across his shoulders, his own stretches diagonally down his back.]
[ like a good boy (or a boy with no real say in this given how little energy and strength he has left), lance rises to his feet along with keith's urging. ]
Hey.
[ he turns to keith suddenly, which in this case is really more like leaning all his weight on the other boy, and using that momentum to swing his head to the side, which just results in bumped foreheads, but at least with their foreheads pressed together like this now, lance can maintain a steady eye contact. because what he's about to say is super important, and not at all spurred on by lack of blood or anything like that. ]
...make sure to use the hamster ones.
[ band-aids. he bought the house hamster band-aids because of course he did. ]
[Whatever that means. Maybe it'll all click by the end of this movie. For now, he's being agreeable because he'd rather not have Lance suddenly dig his heels into the ground and refuse help, cos, what the fuck.
He doesn't smell drunk, at least. Lance sure made this mystery hard as hell to crack. He's left staring into his eyes for...an extra second or so, just to super highkey but lowkey express that he has no fuckin' idea what Lance is talking about but...
he's worried. He'd try to toss him over a shoulder or piggyback him if he knew the extent of his injuries. Instead of exacerbating anything, he'll just try to babystep them into the bathroom...leaving his head as is, lest it loll to the opposite side and he ends up screwing his neck up too.]
But when did we get a hamster?
[Right, engage in conversation, keep him alert...]
[ the walk from the living room to the bathroom sure is a lot longer when you're barely walking. but to his credit, he tries, dragging each foot little by little with keith's continued coaxing. the conversation is a welcome distraction; he almost forgets how his bruised ribs object to all the talking. ]
No no no. [ he certainly sounds a bit like he's drunk, words slurring slightly, but it's just the lightheartedness talking here... ] Band-aids. Band-aids. I got us all hamster ones, because they're kinda like the space mice, you know?? I figure it might help make Allura feel a little less outnumbered.
[ because they're dumb boys.
anyway, lance sighs heavily, head lolling slightly against keith's temple. ]
[That's...sweet. Thoughtful. Lance has always been in his obscure Lance Ways. He may've cracked a smile under other conditions -- or made fun of the idea, under other conditions....
Once they've reached the bathroom, he'll quietly set him down on the (lidded) toilet bowl, inwardly unsure about whether he should even use the hamster band-aids if they're a coping mechanism for Allura? He did request them by name, but like...]
Alright, I'll get you some water if you start talking about what happened.
[Which isn't true, because he's already moving to the sink, filling a small paper cup with cold water from it.]
Did you... [.....] fall down?
[He falls down a lot, right? Maybe he should check his breath for realsies.]
[ lance contemplates that question for a long time. or, at least however long it takes for that cup to be filled, which feels like a long time to a dehydrated man. it's only when he sees it filled to the brim (and then some, pay attention keith don't waste water) that he realizes he should speak. ]
Yeah.
[ ... i mean it's technically true. he keeps watching the cup, clearly waiting for it to come closer. he doesn't really want to risk lifting any arms at the moment, especially now that he's sort of settled on the toilet as he is. ]
[That's ok; Lance's arms are currently a little...scary, so he's bringing the cup directly to his mouth, propping the rim against his lower lip, tilting it up just a bit.]
Who kicked you?
[His face is starting to fall; don't make him regret helping you....if this is about some bullshit pickup line he's gonna be so disappointed.]
[ brb he's gonna just chug the whole thing first, thanks. he hadn't realized just how thirsty he was till that first drop of water touched his tongue, but to be fair he'd been out all day, saving all kinds of lives... playing all kinds of arcade games...
but once he's downed the thing he's licking at his lips, contemplating asking for a second cup... maybe he should pace himself. can you get over-full on water?? ]
I didn't really get her name.
[ he sighs, and no it's not the love-struck kind of sigh one might expect from lance when he's talking about a girl. there's a sharp frown on his lips, a deep furrow to his brow even as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall. it's a meager attempt to try and crawl back towards that rest he'd been looking for earlier. ]
A bunch of the new people that woke up... some of them were in pretty bad shape in that simulation. I think she thought we all betrayed her or something... She was pretty mad.
[Nope. There's a thing called water poison and if anyone would somehow achieve that level of too much water via dixie cup, it would be Lance. The cup finds a place by the sink, and while Keith's listening, he's also starting to tug his shirt up -- the end goal is removing it. Gotta check out the extent of this bullshit.
Even if he ended up getting the shit kicked out of him by way of horrendous pickup lines, he...can't just leave him like this ok. He's already contemplating revenge. This mystery person's lucky he can't gauge how much blood Lance has lost due to his mallgoth attire; he can only make note of that frown.]
So you and a bunch of other people got beaten up for no reason?
[Rather than skeptical, he sounds increasingly ticked off.]
[ lance isn't too out of it that he would miss the anger in the other boy's voice, but he actually misunderstands that it's directed at himself. to be fair, he had been pretty stupid back there, acting more like the red paladin than he would have liked— ]
No, it was just me.
[ —but at the time, he couldn't really afford to stop and wait for any back up. ]
And I wouldn't say it was for no reason, either... She really thought she was betrayed. [ the water worked to rejuvenate him a little, but already he can feel a bit of his words begin to slur together. he's completely still as keith tugs on his shirt, too tired and beat to really care. save for a couple of cuts, it's the bruising that's really all that concerning, almost his entire torso looking like some kindergartener fingerpainted purple all over it. ]
Anyway I tried to talk some sense into her but she wasn't really having it, so then I tried to hug her to get her warm to snap her out of it [ LOOK he was told that's how they could help okay?? ] but she was having that way less.
[Not really wanting to move his arms all about, he'll just kinda rip whatever he can't easily slip off. The shirt's a wash anyway. The gash on his arm is most notable -- he may even pale slightly upon sight. It's not that he's sensitive to gore, blood or anything of the sort. He's just...
Momentarily not sure what to do. He should probably be at a clinic right now, and there he goes slurring again.]
But she wasn't being betrayed.
[Firmly, though he wasn't there to witness anything. He knows Lance well enough to know he's not an asshole. While he continues on, Keith leans himself over to the medicine cabinet which is stuffed with more of Lance's beauty care products than anything else. Somewhere in there is a potion from Lysa from way back at the outpost. It's something he never used, partly because he's naturally suspicious of weird bullshit...and partly because he's never had to.
He'll work the cap off with his teeth, spit it to the side and spread a bit of the liquid content between his index and middle fingers.]
Yeah, probably don't do that to someone who hates you.
[Keith, giving advice on hugging. When to: the do's and don'ts. He'll be gently smearing the liquid over the oozing gash in the meantime, trying to be featherlight with his touch but also practically trying to seal it up with the stuff. He's not sure how it works, but applying it directly is plan A.]
--- This might sting.
[Again, he doesn't know. Probably should have given a head's up ahead of freaking time.]
I couldn't not do something. [ in the end, that's the whole of it. sure, he would have preferred to just talk it out, as is his nature, but well that wasn't looking likely, he had to do what he could. in the end, it all sort of worked out, and he definitely isn't quite as bad as he could have been.
he quiets when keith leans down to tend to the wound on his arm, expression scrunching up slightly. the ointment is unrecognizable to lance, but it has a shadp, crisp smell that he doesn't automatically trust. still, he trusts keith, and so doesn't put up a fuss when he starts applying it—
but he's definitely wishing he'd given out a good warning befofe hand. hissing, lance jumps in his seat a little, hands flying down to grip at the edge of the porcelain. it just reopens that wound again, tbh, but the ointment is... slowly but surely doing something about it.
he gives keith a Look, as if he were annoyed... but tbh it's more that the pain has brought him back to the present a bit more, and he's angry at himself for not looking a little tougher in front of him. hmph. ]
[But not sorry enough to back off outright; if it stings, it...must be working. He can't truly tell because he's now oozing more blood...]
Just try to relax.
[While doubledipping and applying more of that magic ointment to the gash. Sit Goddamn Still probably wouldn't blow over well; he's similarly frustrated-looking, but not at his patient. He's just ill-prepared for this, and still pretty pissed at the mystery girl.]
Try to focus on... [What does Lance like? Girls, particle barriers? He always thought that was kinda weird.] ...the hamster bandaids.
[He'll stop picking on that particular wound with that, moving onto some others that vary from superficial to borderline concerning. He'll take a break once his fingers run dry.]
What else hurts?
[Breathing? Moving a certain way? Don't mind him while he blatantly stares at your bod for more info.]
[ it takes lance a couple of moments to remember the hanster bandaids, somehow having forgot all about mentioning them from the get-go. in the end, it's the thinking about thinking about them that actually distracts him from the aches, instead of the actual bandaids themselves.
relaxing a bit now, he tries to finally take stock of himself. apart from his arm, no other limb seems to really be in any rough shape. he'd sprained his ankle there for a bit (again) but it seems to have healed up just fine by now — or maybe just the pain of it pales in comparison to everything else.
a deep breath, and then a pause. ]
I think my ribs are bruised.
[ you're not jamming that ointment downhis throat, though.... ]
[Lance seems mostly intact, yeah. He hasn't seen what's going on below the belt, though...and he's not sure how accurately Lance can provide a report on the whole thing. He'll kneel down onto one knee and start to undo his boots -- or whatever footwear he uses while on patrol.]
Bruised or broken?
[He looks up for a split second, then proceeds to wiggle the boot from his foot. It happens once more with the opposite.]
[ there is a lull between keith's question and his response, seemingly distracted by the strangely tender removal of his boots. in the interim, he takes a couple of deep breaths, contemplative. ]
...Bruised.
[ if they were broken, it would hurt a lot more, wouldn't it?
there is a long pause, eyes stalling over keith's hands in the fading light. ]
[He's still not sure how reliable Lance's assessment is. Broken, bruised or cracked, it can be difficult to tell apart the differences. Good thing he's got a magic potion that may or may not be digestible.]
No. [It's a kneejerk response while gauging the condition of his pants in relation to damage. They don't look so rough, but he'll...further determine what's going on there in a minute. For now, he'll stand, cap the potion, slip an arm under Lance's with an upward motion, suggesting he stand up once more, free to rely on Keith to hold him up.] I wouldn't let you die.
[You're like his BEST FRIEND dude...come on. come on man.]
[ it all hurts a little too much to feel like death; wasn't that supposed to be one sweet release? and though he had felt a flare of that fear, there had been something infinitely comforting in keith's presence that hadn't allowed the fear to linger. especially not after hearing such conviction in the other boy's tone.
still, he can't help but babble. up on his feet now, with blood and oxygen rushing back up to his brain, his lightheadedness makes his already instinctual lack of filter that much more unavoidable: ]
For a second, though — for a second I thought I was.
[ once more he leans heavily on keith, using the shorter boy for full support. once more their faces are mere inches apart, and his eyes are left to stare intently wherever they could fall. ]
And then I thought, If I was gonna die, there's definitely something I wanna do before I never get the chance to do it anymore—.
[ and then he stops abruptly, quieting into a heavy pause. then his eyes seem to glaze over, like a visible glitch, and his expression slackens as his head begins to tilt the other way. ]
...Buuuuut I'm not. Which is — yay. Great. That's — great.
[ another pause, but much more brief and awkward. ]
[Well, he's up, and once Lance is up, he's trying to move head -- glazed-over look notwithstanding. The faster they get to the bedroom, the faster Lance won't have to worry about dying.
Because he's fine. Totally fine. He's taking that potion bottle in the hand stretched across Lance's middle, urging him forward.]
Are you alright with walking?
[His legs look fine(ish), yeah, but he doesn't look great.]
You're not dying, we're just moving to our room.
[Our; just reiterating, though, keeping would-be confusion to a minimal. He'll probe more into that once they're settled and he's not thinking about twelve (at least) different things. Do something before he dies? Get married and have too many kids, probably.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He's already in a terrible mood, unable to build anything that could pick up on any sounds from space (or emit any, for that matter), so when he heads into the living room to retire for the night only to find Goldilocks in his spot, he's...
Unamused.]
Not happening.
[As if them switching places for a night would be the worst thing to ever occur. How dare he have an opportunity to sleep on a mattress, lest his ego take a blow. He meanders nearer, since Lance seems unresponsive.]
Lance.
[He reaches over to seize a shoulder -- only to quickly withdraw, open palming a hot stove. Is that a tourniquet? Why does he look he's been dragged around by a horse?
And this is from behind.]
...Lance?!
no subject
hang on.
he's the only loudmouth around here...!
he stirs, but only slightly, just enough that part of his face can be seen. one hand flops uselessly in the air, attempting to wave the buzzing fly away. ]
Fivemoreminutes...
1/2
no subject
What are you-- [Wrong question.] What happened to you?!
[He's urging Lance to sit up, hurriedly parking his ass in the space he's creating by forcing Lance to do just that.
This isn't even about stealing his bed anymore. He'd assume this all had to do with something blatantly idiotic, but he's not wearing his fishnets.
...Which makes it all the more worse.]
no subject
he peers at keith with the most petulant of frowns. ]
Hey... this is my room now... getout.
[ yeah he's gonna try and twist away from keith now, rolling onto his side and tipping towards the other end of the couch. ]
no subject
[Discernible even in the dim light. The dim-I'm-Almost-Ready-For-Beddy-But-I-Still-Have-To-Brush-My-Teeth light. The source is probably a children's night light. He'll catch Lance's opposite, furthest shoulder -- trying to do so carefully, but it's kinda hard with him pressing his weight all sideways?!]
Why are you bleeding?
[They should move this party to the bathroom, not to confuse this with their hot shower fiasco...but that's where the bandages and such are located.]
Come on, we're getting up.
[Manually strewing Lance's arm across his shoulders, his own stretches diagonally down his back.]
no subject
Hey.
[ he turns to keith suddenly, which in this case is really more like leaning all his weight on the other boy, and using that momentum to swing his head to the side, which just results in bumped foreheads, but at least with their foreheads pressed together like this now, lance can maintain a steady eye contact. because what he's about to say is super important, and not at all spurred on by lack of blood or anything like that. ]
...make sure to use the hamster ones.
[ band-aids. he bought the house hamster band-aids because of course he did. ]
no subject
[Whatever that means. Maybe it'll all click by the end of this movie. For now, he's being agreeable because he'd rather not have Lance suddenly dig his heels into the ground and refuse help, cos, what the fuck.
He doesn't smell drunk, at least. Lance sure made this mystery hard as hell to crack. He's left staring into his eyes for...an extra second or so, just to super highkey but lowkey express that he has no fuckin' idea what Lance is talking about but...
he's worried. He'd try to toss him over a shoulder or piggyback him if he knew the extent of his injuries. Instead of exacerbating anything, he'll just try to babystep them into the bathroom...leaving his head as is, lest it loll to the opposite side and he ends up screwing his neck up too.]
But when did we get a hamster?
[Right, engage in conversation, keep him alert...]
no subject
No no no. [ he certainly sounds a bit like he's drunk, words slurring slightly, but it's just the lightheartedness talking here... ] Band-aids. Band-aids. I got us all hamster ones, because they're kinda like the space mice, you know?? I figure it might help make Allura feel a little less outnumbered.
[ because they're dumb boys.
anyway, lance sighs heavily, head lolling slightly against keith's temple. ]
I'm thirsty, [ he announces.
well damn bitch me too. ]
no subject
Once they've reached the bathroom, he'll quietly set him down on the (lidded) toilet bowl, inwardly unsure about whether he should even use the hamster band-aids if they're a coping mechanism for Allura? He did request them by name, but like...]
Alright, I'll get you some water if you start talking about what happened.
[Which isn't true, because he's already moving to the sink, filling a small paper cup with cold water from it.]
Did you... [.....] fall down?
[He falls down a lot, right? Maybe he should check his breath for realsies.]
no subject
Yeah.
[ ... i mean it's technically true. he keeps watching the cup, clearly waiting for it to come closer. he doesn't really want to risk lifting any arms at the moment, especially now that he's sort of settled on the toilet as he is. ]
After she kicked me.
[ okay... we're getting somewhere... ]
no subject
Who kicked you?
[His face is starting to fall; don't make him regret helping you....if this is about some bullshit pickup line he's gonna be so disappointed.]
no subject
but once he's downed the thing he's licking at his lips, contemplating asking for a second cup... maybe he should pace himself. can you get over-full on water?? ]
I didn't really get her name.
[ he sighs, and no it's not the love-struck kind of sigh one might expect from lance when he's talking about a girl. there's a sharp frown on his lips, a deep furrow to his brow even as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the wall. it's a meager attempt to try and crawl back towards that rest he'd been looking for earlier. ]
A bunch of the new people that woke up... some of them were in pretty bad shape in that simulation. I think she thought we all betrayed her or something... She was pretty mad.
no subject
Even if he ended up getting the shit kicked out of him by way of horrendous pickup lines, he...can't just leave him like this ok. He's already contemplating revenge. This mystery person's lucky he can't gauge how much blood Lance has lost due to his mallgoth attire; he can only make note of that frown.]
So you and a bunch of other people got beaten up for no reason?
[Rather than skeptical, he sounds increasingly ticked off.]
no subject
No, it was just me.
[ —but at the time, he couldn't really afford to stop and wait for any back up. ]
And I wouldn't say it was for no reason, either... She really thought she was betrayed. [ the water worked to rejuvenate him a little, but already he can feel a bit of his words begin to slur together. he's completely still as keith tugs on his shirt, too tired and beat to really care. save for a couple of cuts, it's the bruising that's really all that concerning, almost his entire torso looking like some kindergartener fingerpainted purple all over it. ]
Anyway I tried to talk some sense into her but she wasn't really having it, so then I tried to hug her to get her warm to snap her out of it [ LOOK he was told that's how they could help okay?? ] but she was having that way less.
no subject
Momentarily not sure what to do. He should probably be at a clinic right now, and there he goes slurring again.]
But she wasn't being betrayed.
[Firmly, though he wasn't there to witness anything. He knows Lance well enough to know he's not an asshole. While he continues on, Keith leans himself over to the medicine cabinet which is stuffed with more of Lance's beauty care products than anything else. Somewhere in there is a potion from Lysa from way back at the outpost. It's something he never used, partly because he's naturally suspicious of weird bullshit...and partly because he's never had to.
He'll work the cap off with his teeth, spit it to the side and spread a bit of the liquid content between his index and middle fingers.]
Yeah, probably don't do that to someone who hates you.
[Keith, giving advice on hugging. When to: the do's and don'ts. He'll be gently smearing the liquid over the oozing gash in the meantime, trying to be featherlight with his touch but also practically trying to seal it up with the stuff. He's not sure how it works, but applying it directly is plan A.]
--- This might sting.
[Again, he doesn't know. Probably should have given a head's up ahead of freaking time.]
no subject
he quiets when keith leans down to tend to the wound on his arm, expression scrunching up slightly. the ointment is unrecognizable to lance, but it has a shadp, crisp smell that he doesn't automatically trust. still, he trusts keith, and so doesn't put up a fuss when he starts applying it—
but he's definitely wishing he'd given out a good warning befofe hand. hissing, lance jumps in his seat a little, hands flying down to grip at the edge of the porcelain. it just reopens that wound again, tbh, but the ointment is... slowly but surely doing something about it.
he gives keith a Look, as if he were annoyed... but tbh it's more that the pain has brought him back to the present a bit more, and he's angry at himself for not looking a little tougher in front of him. hmph. ]
no subject
[But not sorry enough to back off outright; if it stings, it...must be working. He can't truly tell because he's now oozing more blood...]
Just try to relax.
[While doubledipping and applying more of that magic ointment to the gash. Sit Goddamn Still probably wouldn't blow over well; he's similarly frustrated-looking, but not at his patient. He's just ill-prepared for this, and still pretty pissed at the mystery girl.]
Try to focus on... [What does Lance like? Girls, particle barriers? He always thought that was kinda weird.] ...the hamster bandaids.
[He'll stop picking on that particular wound with that, moving onto some others that vary from superficial to borderline concerning. He'll take a break once his fingers run dry.]
What else hurts?
[Breathing? Moving a certain way? Don't mind him while he blatantly stares at your bod for more info.]
no subject
relaxing a bit now, he tries to finally take stock of himself. apart from his arm, no other limb seems to really be in any rough shape. he'd sprained his ankle there for a bit (again) but it seems to have healed up just fine by now — or maybe just the pain of it pales in comparison to everything else.
a deep breath, and then a pause. ]
I think my ribs are bruised.
[ you're not jamming that ointment downhis throat, though.... ]
no subject
Bruised or broken?
[He looks up for a split second, then proceeds to wiggle the boot from his foot. It happens once more with the opposite.]
no subject
...Bruised.
[ if they were broken, it would hurt a lot more, wouldn't it?
there is a long pause, eyes stalling over keith's hands in the fading light. ]
Am I dying?
no subject
No. [It's a kneejerk response while gauging the condition of his pants in relation to damage. They don't look so rough, but he'll...further determine what's going on there in a minute. For now, he'll stand, cap the potion, slip an arm under Lance's with an upward motion, suggesting he stand up once more, free to rely on Keith to hold him up.] I wouldn't let you die.
[You're like his BEST FRIEND dude...come on. come on man.]
1/2
[ it all hurts a little too much to feel like death; wasn't that supposed to be one sweet release? and though he had felt a flare of that fear, there had been something infinitely comforting in keith's presence that hadn't allowed the fear to linger. especially not after hearing such conviction in the other boy's tone.
still, he can't help but babble. up on his feet now, with blood and oxygen rushing back up to his brain, his lightheadedness makes his already instinctual lack of filter that much more unavoidable: ]
For a second, though — for a second I thought I was.
[ once more he leans heavily on keith, using the shorter boy for full support. once more their faces are mere inches apart, and his eyes are left to stare intently wherever they could fall. ]
And then I thought, If I was gonna die, there's definitely something I wanna do before I never get the chance to do it anymore—.
2/2
...Buuuuut I'm not. Which is — yay. Great. That's — great.
[ another pause, but much more brief and awkward. ]
Why am I standing again?
no subject
Because he's fine. Totally fine. He's taking that potion bottle in the hand stretched across Lance's middle, urging him forward.]
Are you alright with walking?
[His legs look fine(ish), yeah, but he doesn't look great.]
You're not dying, we're just moving to our room.
[Our; just reiterating, though, keeping would-be confusion to a minimal. He'll probe more into that once they're settled and he's not thinking about twelve (at least) different things. Do something before he dies? Get married and have too many kids, probably.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
the icon is laughably accurate
aw...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/3
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)