WickedCadrach

human race

Oral

Cherry bomb Car jack (pick one to reply to and unite the broken timeline)

Not Guilty. I drink them just to be sure I'm getting enough protein after working out, but I'm not a fan. The next person is totally ok with sharing what they're eating with animals.

sore bottom

//Absolutely. I'll edit this with a fuller RP reply when I can focus on it. The Hive frame's cool feature is Mimicry. It can spoof the radar shadow, thermal outline, or electrical signature of other frame-sized mechs, kaiju, or vehicles. It can also mimic the vocalizations of kaiju and BioFrames it hears like a parrot or mockingbird.// "Captain." Emily called back the simple acknowledgement of Payarkoon's orders, and unhooked her palm from the Hive frame's busted cockpit. She waited until engineering had the frame in hand to pass off her synch, not wanting to leave the restless beast without some other mind to help sooth it. Then, dropping to the carrier floor, she smirked to Rebecca, holding up a hand to stop the engineer for a moment. "Hell of a maneuver with the thrusters. Way to make us look like rock stars." Maybe it was the afterglow of the battle and the intense culmination of her link with Scylla, or maybe it was the painkillers giving her cybered body the 'warm fuzzies', but Emily found herself feeling a bit less grim and more bold as she leaned her trim shoulders forward and softly said, "If you feel like a drink to celebrate once you're off shift, I'll be sleeping it off in the pilot barracks." And lifting a slender hand, still slick with sweat and the neurofluid from Scylla's cockpit, Emily patted Rebecca's cheek, leaving a thin, glistening print in the shape of her fingers before walking away to see to Scylla. The eight-meter BioFrame's tentacles coiled restlessly, wrapping and unwrapping as it padded on hands and heels like a gorilla. The space wasn't particularly cramped for a flea-class frame like Scylla, but the instinct to find a dark nook to sink into was strong in the cephalopod-like head. "Hey, hey... easy, girl. We won. We're going back to base." Emily raised her arms, drawing the frame's attention as she closed the distance. "Settle down. Lie down. Heel. Fuck..." Emily wasn't particularly soft spoken, she could actually be quite crass and gruff around other people, but she did her best to take a deep breath and keep the annoyance out of her words as she tried to get her frame to crouch or lie down and just ride out the four minutes before they would be able to drop back to the paddock. The results were... mixed. With the other frames starting at an abrupt screech and crash as Scylla's wayward tentacle upended a rolling tool rack, snapping the clamps keeping it secured to the floor. Emily didn't offer any apology. She was just as annoyed as the engineers at her frame's insubordinate restlessness, and by the time the carrier crossed over the paddock and the BioFrames began to drop one by one back into their pen, Emily only vented a frustrated breath from her throat and stormed to showers so she could get her clothes changed and the remaining neurofluid washed from her skin. In torn denim pants—a size too large but corrected by an overly tight belt—and a black tank top with only a few small holes around the hem, Emily made her way to the Captain's office. She wasn't sure what this plan was Payarkoon had in mind, but the numbness of the medication was already starting to fade and she could feel the whirring of the internal drives at the base of her skull gearing up for a migraine as she tied her dark ponytail back. She knew Payarkoon hated her cigs, but Emily pulled one of the slim electronic sticks from her pocket regardless, the green LED on the end flaring as she inhaled and released a gust of smoke from the vent slits in her throat. Only then did she knock on the Captain's door.

poison heart

gold records

elusive quarry

Not Guilty. I had a handful of peanut butter granola. I'm not a big breakfast person, but if I don't have something my multivitamin gives me stomach cramps. The next person has a vitamin or supplement they swear by.

tonight tonight

Not Guilty. My older brother used to play SimCity 2000 and he set it up on an emulator with my first computer. It's been on every computer I've owned, but I don't really play computer games anymore. It's kind of like a trinket to make the space homey more than a game, I guess. The next person could reasonably take a bubble-bath today but won't.

(oops, doubled replied ) Guilty. The YMCA. I used to use their gym membership, and despite being in an extremely red area, they made an effort to put up signage and cultivate a welcoming atmosphere. Then they changed managers, all the signage was taken down and swapped for crucifixes and swirly text about God. But what cinched it was going in with two friends of mine (workout buddies!), who are a married gay couple, and watching them get harangued at the desk over someone who wanted to start shit over there being two adult men on 'the family plan' membership together and telling them they had to get two individual memberships. Bonus round. The Salvation Army. I'll just let you Google why the Salvation Army can go straight to hell, but it takes no small amount of restraint for me not to flip off those bell-ringers collecting donations every Christmas. (I did not expect this, but I'm, like, actually shaking right now and need to calm down, ) The next person has a go-to technique they use to calm down when they are angry or upset.

Fuck. To make it a happy Monday morning for us both. ❤

thought out

Guilty. A good 90% of the time anyway. I can't really listen to anything with lyrics though, since it makes it very difficult for me to get into a flow state. So I end up listening to a lot of soundtracks and instrumental playlists. The next person is a snacker and usually has a bite of something between meals.

salsa dancing

Not Guilty. Just kind of lucky I guess. Never having owned a car probably helps those odds though... The next person has a go-to memory that always gets them hot and bothered.

Hotel sex

Kill. To avenge my zombie husband and for the chance to say something pithy about spoiling a lovely mimosa brunch.

Guilty. I don't anymore. But when I was in college, I was at a breaking point where I knew I was living a lie and didn't know how to escape, so I started cutting. It started small but I didn't really have anyone to catch me in the act or that I trusted to talk about it. At its worst, I wrote 'poison' and 'liar' on my thigh with a knife. I did find someone who cared eventually and I've only regressed once since then, but I have a lot of scars on my thighs, some up by my elbow on my forearm. The next person has stitched a wound.

Back breaking

Pretty tired

Not guilty. Though, I've never given Mac a fair chance. I grew up on PC and it's almost always been cheaper to let my friends swap parts or teach me how than to get a new computer. The next person still sends handwritten letters.

Guilty. I prefer mysteries with a bit of blood, but cozies are a nice treat. The next person enjoys Hallmark-style Christmas movies.