Chapter Text
- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] -
Your name is Daviad Stadyr, and you are the best moirail on Alternia or any other planet. You’re so perfectly pale for that nubby-horned wreck Vantas, you make other moirails look like sickle-bugs murderhumping their unfortunate partners. You take such incredibly good care of him that you have to be careful not to overflow the diamond box and fill up his other quadrants with awesome.
Wait. Shit. What if that’s what happened?
No, hang on, that’s stupid.
Anyway, your point is, you are the palest of the pale. You type in mutant red to distract attention from his colorless text. You wear your sign in black or white so he can get away with gray. Long before your eyes turned, you started wearing shades so he would look like he was copying you when he covered the red blooming in his irises. Every day when you go to sleep, you know tomorrow might be the night he bursts into your hive with culling drones on his tail, and you ask yourself if you’ll fight to the death so he can live a few more minutes.
The answer is always yes.
Hell fucking yes.
Bottom line, whatever it takes to protect him, you’re going to do it. You just… don’t know what that is right now. Obviously some brainstorming needs to happen here. It’s time to get merciless about this.
You put on some thinking music. Something to shake up your thinksponge, maybe squeeze out a few drops of genius.
