multiversallogs | taking care of business

Entry tags:

taking care of business

Who: Rex Lewis & Open
What: Getting business in order.
Where: Various.
When: Various times/dates this week.
Notes: Rex is due for some encounters with Alter Ego, Tadhg, Ana, Will...? ANYONE ELSE IS WELCOME, TOO. Just go ahead and start a thread at any location and any date this week, and I'll drop Rex in.
Warnings: None yet.

Now that the move from Griss Twist (which he will never, ever set foot in again... except, perhaps, to pass through to another location) to a new, two-bedroom apartment-- a proper apartment-- in Flyside has been completed, Rex is settling back into a routine. Work, work, more work, the occasional contract job, partner, sister, cat, research project... On the one hand, it's exhilarating, being busy again after so much idle time wasted in a cosmic prison, but he's finding it difficult to juggle his side projects with his obligations. For nearly two years, he suffered from an abundance of free time, and now he can hardly find enough hours in each day. Time management, it seems, is a skill that can indeed atrophy with disuse. Still, he manages as best he can.

With long hours, inconsistently scheduled shifts and only two days off each week, it doesn't leave much time for his research project into magic-- really, he can only devote one day a week to it, and beyond that, he just has to find gaps in his schedule where he can and work from there. As a result, it's moving slowly-- not that he expects expediency, not with how very little he knows about magic. It's still largely academic at this point, learning magical theories and hypothesizing, brainstorming. By now, Rex is no stranger to the University library. From time to time, there are minor experiments, generally conducted in his modest workshop in Brock Marsh, which he managed to find at a reasonable rate.

When he has a contract job for his budding side-business, Rex has to shift his other projects and commitments to the side and focus on hammering out whatever needs to be done-- repairs and upgrades to technology, mostly. Hardly stimulating, but whatever it takes to build up his reputation. It can be frustrating, trying to juggle these unexpected projects with his routine, but he's finding his groove now.

When he can, Rex shops around, trying to create something respectable out of his workshop. Proper equipment being as rare and expensive as it is, however, he's learning the fine art of, well, scavenging for discarded components and bargain-hunting. Sometimes, he simply explores... and winds up in strange or awkward places. Baedal's full of surprises like that.

Luckily, Rex doesn't have enough of a personal life to sacrifice at the altar of science. Ana and Iago aren't needy sorts, and Rex is accustomed to getting by on minimal sleep, so they find time with each other where they can, but it doesn't seem to be causing any sort of strain when Rex is occupied with his experiments and work for days on end.

Then again, if it is, he's hardly perceptive enough when it comes to the feelings of others to notice.

Depending on when one finds him and what he's doing, Rex can be found in varying states of dress and exhaustion. Bags under his eyes aren't an uncommon sight. When he's out making contacts, he's professional and polished, hair slicked back as he wears a suit. When he's scavenging or bargain-hunting, he's dressed down in jeans and tees, wearing hoodies for warmth, leaving his hair unruly, looking more the part of a poor college student than a brilliant engineer-slash-weapons-developer with megalomaniacal tendencies. Sometimes he's wearing scrubs, which are just a touch too big and make him look smaller than he really is. Work days. Which are practically every day.

Well, at least he can't complain about boredom now.

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In one of the smaller scrap technology stores that specializes in unknown objects that appear through mirrors or the fog, Rex might come across a young woman chatting with the owner about arranging a bit of employment. It seems that provided she can keep her promise of being able to identify just about anything that comes into her hands, she's got the job.

To test it, the owner, Pwe'kek, calls out to Rex and asks him to bring over any three things in the store.

Rex eyes the two of them with interest when he comes in-- a brief glance before turning his attention to the hodgepodge of technology (some he recognizes; others are as alien to him as his own technology must be to others) in the shop. He keeps his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes drift up and down the cluttered shelves. Some of the pieces are obviously broken, junk to some, but potential sources of opportunity to Rex. He reaches out to touch one eye-catching device in particular, a mechanical insectoid, vaguely resembling a larger version of his nanomites-- well, if they had wings-- and he can practically hear Iago scolding him already for wasting money on a broken little robot... He is, after all, on a budget, in Iago's words. Rex sees it as more of an allowance, personally. His mouth twists a little as he contemplates whether or not to pick it up.

And then a very real voice causes him to blink and look over his shoulder at the proprietor, who's motioning for him to bring a few devices over. Well, then. He furrows his brow slightly and glances between the xenian and the woman, then nods and picks up the broken mechanical insect. It's light in his hands-- lighter than it appears, actually. He picks up another device, something that looks a bit like a sonic screwdriver, although it's missing some paneling and the exposed insides have clearly been tampered with. Given the number of worlds and universes out there, Rex isn't certain that it's the same sort of device as what he'd encountered on the Barge, or if it's something else entirely. Hell, it could be a fancy lighter for all he knows. His eyes scan the shelves and settle on some kind of novelty... monkey thing.

...

Okay, Rex has to admit that it's baffling. So it'll do. He picks it up and carries them over to the two, arching his brow at the girl.

"Pop quiz?" he asks, his demeanor friendly enough for now.

"If I do well, I get a gold star," Alter says, stretching and cracking her fingers before starting to identify the various items. She seems to be work through a mix of touch, intuition, and a deft hand with a tiny screwdriver. After a moment of fussing and some gently whisper encouragement (or general tech-nerd mumbling) the insect's wings quiver and she nods before putting it aside and starting in on the other two.

"Got it. It's a piece of a hiveminded AI thing, search and recon, you don't wanna meet the rest of the family. The stickthing is weird as hell and won't do a damn bit of good until you've got the right sort of power," she says, looking it over but not entirely sure how to make it do whatever it's been built to do. "And the last one blows hot air."

"Well, I'm rooting for you," Rex remarks idly, tilting his head slightly as he watches Alter work. He's not expecting any kind of grand show, but if she can lend some insight into the objects he picked up... (Well, okay, not the monkey. Rex doesn't really care about that one.)

When the mechanical wasp briefly flickers to life, Rex almost takes a step forward to get a better look at it, but he manages to stop himself, settling back on his heels. This is between the proprietor and the woman; he's not really a part of this little demonstration. The corner of his mouth twitches upward when she mentions the tiny robot's family, but he refrains from saying anything.

Hiveminded AI. Well, he knows what he's going to buy now. After staring at it for another beat, he fixes his attention back to Alter and the other two objects.

"Hot air? That's it? Who makes a monkey that blows hot air?"

Novelty nail dryers are a completely foreign concept to him, apparently.

Doyle was a fan of scavenging himself. Not for anything in particular or for any specific project, but more for the joy of occasionally finding a jewel in a heap of garbage. He never really owned many things or had much money at his disposal as a kid, so it's how he'd gotten his pocket change before he could find jobs -- or sometimes inbetween trying to find them. People threw away all kinds of things that were still good or just needed a few tweaks to them to be good as new.

When he was a kid he used to tinker around with spare parts, make inventions that were large, obnoxious and didn't really do anything useful. But it was a hobby, and it'd taught him a few things about how mechanical pieces worked. He could repair his own watches, fix his own bikes, usually with parts he could find laying around. It was about the only useful skill set he'd ever gotten out of his childhood exploits.

But he continued to explore none the less, looking for odds and ends. He knew his free ride wouldn't last for long, and it'd be good to find a way to get some pocket change to rent a place for as long as he could afford it. Maybe he'd even find a real job.

It wasn't a complete surprise to find someone else wading through the garbage, but it was a bit of one to find someone that looked relatively clean and well-dressed, even if he was a little visibly haggard. Dressed casually, but his clothes fit well enough that he was a dead giveaway for someone who wasn't homeless or a beggar. A college student is what he would've guessed back home. Those kids ate worse than he did most days.

"Hey," He offered a hand up in brief greeting along with a toothy smile. "Looking for anything specific or just looking?"

Half of Rex was submerged in a dumpster behind some shops in a solidly academic sector (so that food and other... less hygienic trash was scarce), scrounging around for wiring, casings, processors... Right, the latter was mostly wishful thinking. He found something that looked like two metal rods, wires braided between them, and he reached for it and gave it a sharp tug. He managed to yank it up a few inches, but it caught on some other debris and stubbornly remained half-buried. He gave it another tug, harder this time, then stumbled back as the rods came loose and revealed... a robot arm? He lifted the device up, looking at the limply hanging hand at the end of the rods.

Hm. The craftsmanship was exquisite from an aesthetic standpoint, but he wasn't certain about functionality. Maybe with some work, he could make something useful out of this. Experimentally, he bent one of the fingers, then jerked in surprise when he heard somebody greet him. Straightening up, Rex glanced to his side, eyeing the man with caution, then offered a smile of his own. Fake (since he had no idea who this person was and if he was a threat), but well acted. It seemed real enough.

"Hey. Uh... Just looking. You never know what you can find. Or maybe you do know. I--" He cleared his throat, glanced away and laughed softly. "Sorry, I guess these are weird circumstances under which to meet somebody."

The time Arthur had come to let Jason out of the arrival room, he'd been dressed casually. For Arthur, anyway. So it wasn't a three piece suit, not that it matters; to Jason, Arthur emitted a suit-ness regardless of what he was wearing. So spotting Rex out making contacts in his suit, perhaps he can be forgiven for what happens next.

Or maybe not, it's Rex.

He by no means knew Arthur well enough to wander up from behind until they were side by side, then bump him with his shoulder, but he's doing it anyway because Arthur also emitted a certain dignity that Jason finds irresistibly troll-worthy. And admittedly, even if he'd known it wasn't Arthur, he might have done it anyway. "Don't I owe you a drink?"

So enjoy this six foot, kind of burly, leather jacket-wearing dude all casually talking at you, Rex.

Try as he might, Rex isn't as good at emitting effortless dignity as Arthur was. There's something-- a small something-- inherently ridiculous and a little awkward about Rex, and it takes concentration to mask it. That concentration, unfortunately, is easily broken by men who casually bump into him and offer to buy him a drink. Thankfully, he's just shaken hands and parted ways with his new client, so the man's not around to see that mask of cool, totally-not-forced confidence fall into wide-eyed awkwardness.

"A drink?"

Was this guy hitting on him? Rex is horrible at gauging this kind of thing.

"Why would you get me a drink?"

That's different. That's very different. But Jason plays it dumb, because this is sort of interesting: either Arthur is fucking with him because Jason trolled him, or this is just someone who looks like Arthur but isn't.

"I guess I'm not very memorable. But surely the crowbar rings a bell?"

He says that a little loudly, for the sake of public entertainment. He does not, however, actually have the crowbar with him.

Quickly, Rex eyes the man, trying to gauge how much of a threat he should consider him-- if any. The whole "crowbar" thing does raise his guard a little, since that isn't exactly something with good connotations. Crowbars call illicit activities, breaking and entering, to mind.

"No, I--" He knits his brow, like he's thinking, racking his brain trying to pinpoint where he knows him from... Nope, he's drawing a blank. "Sorry, I don't remember you." He's not sure if this is a case of mistaken identity or if he really did run into this guy before. The face is a little familiar, but that doesn't mean anything. He could've passed by him one day, seen him on the Network if were in the same cohort, done business while trying to find parts for his projects...

"You know how it is in a big city, so many people..."

Tadhg paces through the worn, unearthly statues of Monster Garden, the gray of his stallion-form's coat looking not unlike shadowed stone itself. His ears flick back and forth and his nostrils flare as he searches for sound or scent that might indicate the approach of the man he's supposed to meet here.

No sign yet.

He pauses at last by a moss-encrusted fountain, their designated meeting place. The horse makes a circuit around the fountain, head swinging to and fro, taking in every detail of his surroundings that he can. Only then does the horse rear, shimmer and shrink into a dark-haired, jeans-clad man.

Tadhg shivers slightly, and not from the dank chill in the air. There is power here, power that makes the back of his neck prickle.

If there's power in Echomire, Rex doesn't feel it. He presumes that people largely avoid the area due to local superstitions, urban legends, presumed "hauntings" of some kind-- things that, although he's studying magic, he considers too nonsensical to believe in. Any prickling on the back of his neck, odd goosebumps on his arms or sudden chills are instantly written off as the wind, and that is that. He wraps his coat tighter around himself as he trudges towards the fountain. There's a satchel slung over his shoulder containing a notebook, a camera that he wishes was digital, and a few other items. He's not really planning on anything right now-- after all, this is only supposed to be a quick demo, but if there's anything worth documenting and Tadhg allows it, Rex is prepared. All of his notes and pictures will be off the CiD, just in case. He doesn't want to risk anything leaking onto the Network, after all.

"Mr. MacEibhir?" he asks, careful with his pronunciation... and sticking with the surname until he actually knows how to say the first name. He figures if Tadhg wants to go by it, he'll correct him and Rex will be spared the awkward moment of totally getting his name wrong. "I presume, anyway, since..." He looks around their surroundings. "This isn't exactly a popular destination." He smiles and offers his hand for a friendly shake. "I'm Dr. Lewis."

Will's excited. This is the first real flying machine he's been slated to test, even if it doesn't look like anything he's ever seen before. If anything, it looks vaguely reptilian, with gauzy, insubstantial wings shimmering on its sides. He's not sure how it's supposed to fly, actually, but he's looking forward to trying. The enclosed cockpit makes him a little nervous, because it'll be harder to get out when something inevitably goes wrong, but he tests the exit latch a few times before the test run really gets under way.

It does take off, surprisingly smoothly, and that's the last thing that goes right. After fifteen minutes of trying to level out the spiraling, smooth the jerky acceleration, and overall questionable handling, the fairy crocodile starts an un-asked-for descent, nose-first. Luckily, the emergency latch is still working fine and, somewhat more surprisingly, the makeshift parachute glider Will's wearing works okay too. The siren hasn't gone off, so no one's running, and Will watches the machine crash into the earth with a puff of dirt and metal shrieking while he floats down after it. Well, so much for that.

Considering Rex's current goal of linking magic and technology together, a visit to Tinker's Lot is absolutely vital to his project. Sure, it stands as abundant evidence that what he's trying to accomplish is nigh on impossible, but his scientific peers once said the same thing about weaponizing nanomites, using technology to mimic shapeshifting, suppressing superfluous centers of the brain to create perfect, obedient soldiers and, well, Rex accomplished all of those things, so...

He's arrogant enough to think that he can be the exception to the heaps and heaps of failed junk and flying crocodiles.

...

Wait.

Flying crocodiles?

Rex looks up as the... decidedly whimsical machine begins to spiral in the air and then hurtle towards the ground-- luckily, from a pretty safe distance from Rex. It's quite a show, at least, and as the machine crashes (what a waste...), he's left wondering how much he can salvage and for what price...

Or maybe he should see how the pilot's doing. That may be... somewhat important.

Rex heads over to the crash site and waves an arm at the guy. He can't tell that it's the same one from the CiD-- not yet, anyway.

"Hey! You okay?"

He doesn't care, but he sounds like he does, and really, isn't that all that matters?

Will lands, competently if not necessarily gracefully, and it takes him a moment to reply because the scientists are already swarming over the metal corpse to do their postmortem. He disentangles himself from the parachute glider and pulls his helmet off, letting it dangle from its tether as he steps out of the way. “Uh, yeah,” he says, looking at the guy who's asking. Looks like a scruffy kid. He edges further out of the way of the excited chattering going on behind him. “Too bad it didn't work,” he says, mostly to himself, glancing at the wreck over his shoulder.

Rex's eyes linger on the smoking wreckage for a beat too long, but he snaps out of it once the pilot answers him. "Hm." Another quick glance at the scientists picking at the remains of the failed experiment before he looks at the man again. "Well, even failure can lend insight..." Says the man who was known to go into a rage when his own projects failed. "Did you build it?"

“He most certainly did not,” someone behind him says, and Will laughs. He can't tell who said it, because no one's bothering to look at them, but someone must have sensitive ears.

“No,” he confirms. “I'm just hired to try driving these things.”

He glances over at the scientists again, chuckling a little. "Fair enough. Not much of a success rate, I take it." He waves a hand at the abundant examples of failed experiments. "Judging by the scenery, at least."

“Not that I've seen,” Will says agreeably, shifting a little farther away from the scientists in case one of them takes offense at that. “Are you looking to start up your own workshop?”

In Tinker's Lot, Jay had found an unused space and begun to dig out his own little nook to work on and test his ideas. Currently, he was building something that looked like a steampunk version of the rat traps from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that was just the right size to catch a pigeon. He was completely wrapped up in this project, and didn't really seem to notice the world around him.

Meanwhile, Rex is trying to haggle with a two-faced (literally) mechanic for some crystals that are, apparently, able to generate electricity. The problem is, one face is ready to make a deal, but the other's insisting that anything less than twenty shekels is highway robbery. Twenty shekels, Rex insists, is highway robbery in the other direction. And so they go, back and forth, until the more belligerent of the faces finally agrees to thirteen shekels plus Rex's shoelaces. Who knows why-- he's not going to ask. He just crouches down and gets to yanking his laces out. There, Iago should be proud. Rex got what he wanted, and he saved money.

Once the exchange is complete, Rex carefully places the now-wrapped crystals in his satchel and starts off. Unlike others, who stake out spaces to work on projects, Rex prefers working in private. He'll take his goods to his workshop and go about his projects there, thank you very much.

He passes Jay on his way out, then stops and glances back at the other man, who's working on a rather interesting looking project. Eyeing the traps with interest, Rex approaches him.

"Hey." Putting on a smile now, he points to the other scientist. "Jay, right?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling back before glancing down at his project. "I'm thinking of scrapping the legs for wheels, but I'm not sure. I'm also trying to figure out how many volts a crystal has."

As of yet, he'd made the machine, but hadn't quite finished the part the crystals would wire into, not knowing how many he should build it to hold. His plan was to estimate their voltage by getting a lightbulb, taking two wires and attaching them to said light bulb and seeing how bright the light bulb lit. From that, he'd try to estimate how many crystals it would take to power a pigeon trap.

"I'm going to need a light bulb."

Rex approached the trap to get a closer look at it. "It depends on the terrain. Where do you plan on deploying it?" He refrained from touching the device, knowing better than to poke machines he wasn't entirely familiar with it. "And I'm sure a light bulb shouldn't be too hard to find."

In the real world, anyway. He took a step back and glanced around the junkyard.

"What are you trying to catch, anyway? Have a rat problem in your apartment?"

"Uh...no." If he had had one, it would save on buying store rats...although he'd probably still buy them anyway. "Outside, and I'm not completely sure of the terrain, which is why I'm having trouble with the wheel versus legs debate. They're going after pigeons, though, so speed might be good because of the flight thing, but on the other hand, pigeons don't usually fly away, which is why they're so annoying. They just stare at you, creepily, and walk away all slow and confident like--"

Jay paused, realizing that his rant, combined with the increasing anger in his voice as he talked about pigeons was a bit odd, so he cut himself off, looking embarrassed at the moment, trying to think of something to say that would diffuse the weirdness.

"And they look a lot like tiny hawks, which are vicious murderous bastards."

Okay, that wasn't it. He then settled for sitting there, looking awkward.

Rex gave him a weird look, a brow arched as if to say "Are you finished?" Not that he couldn't understand people's aversion to vermin-- he was finicky, himself-- but Jay was talking about pigeons like Rex would talk about, well, the Joes, who were far more bothersome and worthy of contempt than some useless birds.

"Uh. I don't see the resemblance, myself, but I agree that hawks are certainly... vicious." Rex knew that much from experience with his own hawk. "Anyway." He cleared his throat. "If your goal is to capture pigeons, then you should look towards adapting features of animals that prey on them. Cats, for example..."

"Uh...wings? Beaks? General body structure?" Okay, they were pretty different. Hawks were far more terrifying, where in comparison, pigeons only bothered him. "I mean, they're not as bad as hawks, I'll give them that. They won't fly up into a tree and eat your entrails out."

As hawks did to humans all the time. All right, so he did see the flaw in that statement, too. Jay cleared his throat.

"But yeah, I should do that. Stick with the legs, I guess, because they can travel over any type of terrain...unfortunately I'm not going to be able to make this as quiet as a cat, but maybe I can make it able to jump. It'll probably need two more legs to have the balance to land properly."

"All birds have wings and beaks. You don't think about hawks when you see penguins, do you?" If Rex sounded a little incredulous there, it was because he was, although there wasn't any real reason for it. It was just how he rolled.

"And what does eating your entrails have to do with it? Do you over-identify with rodents?"

Ah well. He inspected the trap again, outlining it with his fingers, but coming short of actually touching it. "Maybe you can make it launch a net," he suggested with a laugh. "Or shoot tranquilizers." He wasn't being all that serious anymore.

Jay rolled his eyes. "I had a bad experience with hawks when I was younger, and all bird flapping sounds the same when you get down to it. And no, I don't identify with rodents at all, but last I checked, they're not the only things hawks eat."

Because naturally, it made perfect sense to be concerned over the other things hawks may eat while Jay was quite clearly human, which definitely was not on any hawk's menu. Despite the fact that Rex wasn't being serious with his suggestions, Jay went back to looking at his device thoughtfully.

"I don't have any use for live pigeons. I could do venomous darts, though."

Because that wasn't excessive for dealing with pigeons at all.

Rex just stared at him. "That's entirely too much firepower for a pigeon."

Jay shrugged. "I can probably get venomous darts, so why not? And aside from train stuff, I don't have anything else to do with my time, so again...why not?"

Ana is meeting her brother for lunch. She's loving the freedom of the city, and at the moment she's fitting in rather well. Of course, things are always changeable, but at the moment she's happy. There's something heady about freedom after so long in various prisons, and it's very nice to be her own boss. Of course, that will come with unexpected pitfalls eventually, it always does.

Arriving at the Italian restaurant, Ana looks well. Despite the way her eyes move over the area she's relaxed (somethings where just too far ingrained in her to ever completely go on vacation) and clearly happy to see her little brother in an area that doesn't have Barges, a warden or a concern that they were going to once again seem a sudden call to return to the ship.
The honeymoon phase is still in effect for her, but then again she's always been far more happy-go-lucky than he has.

Speaking of happy-go-lucky, Ana is carrying a large bag over her wrist. A large loaf of bread is sticking out of it, but mostly it's dominated by a large, elaborately wrapped present, complete with red swirly bows. Ever since she was a little girl, Ana had loved giving presents, and wrapping them was one of her favorite things about it.

Rex is already at the restaurant when Ana arrives, although he's surprised to have gotten there on time, since work ran a little late, then he had to take the train home to change clothes, and that took longer than planned... (Okay, so it took longer than planned because Rex isn't quite used to the train schedule yet, but shh.)

Now, he's sitting at their table, still smoothing down his hair and trying to look presentable. He glances up when Ana approaches the table, then stands to greet her. It's the polite thing to do, and Rex is nothing if not... Well, okay, he's not the most polite person, but Ana's his sister.

"Hey." His lips quirk into a smile, then he points to the bag and arches a brow. "You know Catenrat was last month, right?"

That's right, Catenrat. He's learned the lingo.

Damn right he stands to greet her, and as he does so, Ana wrapped her hand around his neck and gave him a quick hug. Now that they were in the 'real' world, Ana was going to be doing their relationship more like the one they'd had been before there'd been faked deaths and evil organizations and post-death barges. It was nice to have a bit of normalcy.

"I know it's past it, but this is a housewarming present. I saw it in the bazaar and I couldn't help but think of you." Sitting in the chair across from him, Ana watched him for a moment, seeing how he looked. After all, it was her job to look out for him.

But that could be done while she handed over the package and the sign that it contained. It was wood, and had been carved in fancy calligraphy. The words on it? 'The Cobra's Nest' of course, complete with a snake on it.

He quickly returned the hug, stiffly, although he was making an effort to relax into it. He wasn't big on hugs even before his accident, so it was usually a somewhat awkward experience with him. Hugging Ana, of course, was all well and good; he just had to get used to normalcy again.

With a slight grin, he sat down across from his sister and glanced around for their server. Now that Ana was here, she could order the wine... Yes, Rex made his sister order the wine. She was the one who was married to a French baron, after all.

Ana speaking brought his attention back to the table. The server could wait.

"A housewarming present?" That was unexpectedly domestic. Then again... This was sort of his first real home, he supposed. College housing didn't count, and neither did army. Or MARS's underwater base. Or the Barge.

...

Well. This innocent gift was certainly putting things into a strange sort of perspective. Rex took the package, inspecting it for a moment, as though he could see through the wrapping paper and discern its contents. Then, he carefully started to pull at the bows and pick at the seams of the wrapping. Where others ripped packages open with abandon, Rex was the sort to keep as much of the paper preserved as possible.

He slid the wooden... plaque?... out of the paper and flipped it over in his hands to get a better look at it.

"Cobra's..." Rex stopped, let out a laugh, and gave his sister a crooked grin. "And here I thought France took care of your kitsch problem. Iago's going to hate this you know." Which meant that it was totally going in the bedroom. "Thanks."

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taking care of business

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potentially the shortest thread ever but doin' it anyway

man, short suits my lazy inclinations. I WELCOME IT

at least they won't be stuck in the shower this time. (unsure)

you never know /WIIIIIIINK sob

Echomire

Re: Echomire

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lolll short term memory loss. I FORGOT REX WOULD'VE SEEN WILL ON THE NETWORK

yours is still better than mine :V

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USING THIS MF ICON BECAUSE I CAN