shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

dont question it, toots.

 

(Oneira looks at him as if he said the sky was green.)
Now why would you do that.

 

I Just Fucking Said I Wouldnt Question It You Faux-Feline Wastechute Stuffed Redundancy Automaton.

 

feisty.

why dont you come over and knock some sense into me.

 

Why Dont You Go Drown In An Oil Spill.

 

no, seriously. do you KNOW how uncomfortable this body is. it HURTS, all the joints and shit, and the ITCHING. places that i didnt even know COULD itch are itchy.

 

What Gave You The False Impression That I Give Even A Singular Shit?

 

cmon, cmon. all i need is a little slap. even a crotchkickll work. just help me get out of this thing.

 

suck it up!!

 

...

[after a moment of consideration, juice boops him on the nose]

 

*He gasps in relief as he switches into a copy of Juice. Itch looks rather offended.*

 

is my body not good enough for you or something?? asshole!

 

no it isnt and yes i am.

 

[Mala watches the transformations curiously, and reaches out with an unnaturally long, spindly... antenna? to tap the top of Cronus's head. Can he only mimic organics? Science.]

 

yeaaaah, no thanks. not going there.

 

[They shrug.] Worth a try.

 

...i think you should probably speak in a lower voice...my throat tends to get a bit sore if i raise it too much...

 

(Reed re-summons her coat so she can wrap it protectively around herself.)

 

well, MY throat feels fine, so thats probably just you.

 

"Are you doing alright, Reed?" Jame asks, concerned. "If you're worried about anything?"