Of course you will! [ Is he ticklish? She's going to try tickling him. ] Because I'm going to force you to have more fun than you're ready for~
[ ...Fun that apparently won't happen until they get past this Q&A session she's regretting more and more. Inwardly, she cringes. What happened to avoiding the past? There are plenty of questions that involve only the past few hours!
All the poking and brushing gets a pout out of her, because she has a feeling if she doesn't start being at least a little truthful, he's going to eventually ask a question that'll make her hide in one of her closets. ]
Well, that's an...interesting question. It's complicated? Writing poems was kind of built into my game, so...
[ Hmm. Sharing that wasn't too bad. Fine, he's earned a little more. ]
I didn't let that limit me, though. I wrote what I wanted, not what the game wanted to pigeonhole me into. It was one of the things I had real control over...
[ But was that her, or was that--she doesn't even want to think the word, but--was it...programming? She shakes off the thought before it can drag her deeper into the same dark depths that make it hard to fall asleep at night. ]
Even when I share poems with someone, the feelings I write are just mine. No one can take it from me. So...it makes me happy?
[ While she sounds unsure, some weight has lifted off her shoulders. Weird. ]
no subject
[ ...Fun that apparently won't happen until they get past this Q&A session she's regretting more and more. Inwardly, she cringes. What happened to avoiding the past? There are plenty of questions that involve only the past few hours!
All the poking and brushing gets a pout out of her, because she has a feeling if she doesn't start being at least a little truthful, he's going to eventually ask a question that'll make her hide in one of her closets. ]
Well, that's an...interesting question. It's complicated? Writing poems was kind of built into my game, so...
[ Hmm. Sharing that wasn't too bad. Fine, he's earned a little more. ]
I didn't let that limit me, though. I wrote what I wanted, not what the game wanted to pigeonhole me into. It was one of the things I had real control over...
[ But was that her, or was that--she doesn't even want to think the word, but--was it...programming? She shakes off the thought before it can drag her deeper into the same dark depths that make it hard to fall asleep at night. ]
Even when I share poems with someone, the feelings I write are just mine. No one can take it from me. So...it makes me happy?
[ While she sounds unsure, some weight has lifted off her shoulders. Weird. ]