pterosaur: (Default)
Not that this isn't hilarious most of the time, but [pause] This is the third different miniskirt in four days.

Which is pretty dumb. Not the sort who looks good in a skirt, you know? Anyone spending this much effort getting these things to stick to me should've picked that up.

Love the wig-hat combo, though. But I think it'd be better with a ponytail. If it was closer to my eyes they'd get lashed.

[She's a pirate! ...In an outfit which would be called moderately fanservicy if it was on a human woman of age.]
pterosaur: (Default)
Hey, knight or knights and your crew, whoever you are?

I have to admit, you've done some mean backjumps. Pretty much everywhere people live, you've bombed; I love the dress-ups on the bridges, and that slam in front of the hall of beginnings? Impressive. I guess your tag's the trollface. If I was you and trying to go all-city, I'd try for more throw-ups and a piece or two, a real burner, but hey, I can't handle the cannons. I'm not a writer anymore. [Except that one time in the theater parking lot. And around her nest.]

But now you're slinging my tag around. You're biting my style. That is not on. There's only one garish time traveling psychic anachronism slumming it here, and she's me. Unless there's another, in which case hey, you're awesome, we should hang out.

[She is using graffiti terminology. ...And not being entirely serious, but she is annoyed about seeing her tag a couple times. 'Time traveling' was underlined after a comment from Key. And then she gets ~flashy~. These five letters practically span from one side of the page to the other.]

pterosaur: (🌱Now I am bereft)
Oh my god this is ridiculous.  A Mr. Showmanship costume?  On me?  Really?  Wow.  I'm impressed.  And a little blinding.  You people might want to be careful about looking up.

...I'd kind of like to keep the boots, but I'm not sure I'd be able to put them on.

Well, anyway.  This is hard to sa I can't  

[pause]
  So I can fit in the elevator.  It's uncomfortable, but I can make it.  Thing is, I can't quite hit the button.  And the people I saw didn't seem terribly willing to squeeze into an elevator full of sequined pterosaur, so...

Anyone feel like hitting it for me?  I'll probably need it on the way back, too.

[
Liberace!  She knows who that is, vaguely.  ...And she doesn't like asking for help.]

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"Horizon" Janine Farehouse

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