host-of-your-screen

[host-of-your-screen]

oohugh hi chat im in so much pain. could people maybe pester host so i can keep my mind off it.. ]]

[host-of-your-screen]

if youre a tv can you play skibidi toilet episode 25 for me

[ The Host jumps up in surprise, standing up and clutching the plushie he had close to his chest. He stares at you, standing in the doorway of his room, a flushed expression on his screen. ]

[ he processes what you said. ]

[ ... his tail slams the door shut in your face. ]

[ maybe knock, next time? ]

[host-of-your-screen]

did you know im writing him wrong. hes supposed to be mean but i get worriee i might hurt peoples feelings.. so i keep making him nice.. i want to write him meaner though..]]

[host-of-your-screen]

[ he gets to his feet again. ]

Entertaining.. [ he scoffed as he rolled back one of his shoulders, glaring off to the side. there's a subtle click from his speakers. ] Yeah, yeah, good idea. I'm sure a little more walk and talk wont wear you down too much! [ he clasped his hands together. ]

Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm out and about! Don't want to end up all dusty from sitting around in the same place, that's no good for someone like me!

[ seems hes completely flipped on a dime - he was stressed out just a second ago, but now hes suddenly okay with the situation. almost like switching the channel on your tv... ]

Where to, then? Lead the way!

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

[ * You_got_email.sfx]

[ * more specifically... a box the size of just 4 feet. More to the left, really. Inside the box was a spamton plushie, still unopened with the clear bag reading in black text: "Fangamer".]

[ *the other contents in the box is a cardboard cutout of Spamton, 7 to 10 unopened TV dinners (still far from their expiry date), 3 chocolate bars in a bag, and a... Mushroom growing kit?]

[ * there was a note. The note read as it was written on the left side of the box: "dear whoever got this package, I decided to send the contents to this specific box. Why, you ask? Well it's because it's the only unfolded box I folded out just to send. That's all I have in my home, really inside the box.]

[ * at the corner of the letter, there was a signature, and no return address was to be seen.]

[ The Host watches with a curious expression as a swatchling wades up to him through the floodwater, a silver platter head high above their head. They bow before removing the lid and presenting the box to The Host. ]

[ He stiffens ever so slightly seeing it. Mail... He doesn't get a lot of mail here. But, he gently picks it up and looks it up, reading the label under his breath. Was this... Meant for him? Or was it just randomly sent to his address? The note only mystified him more, but putting the box back on the platter he still opened it. ]

[ he took the Spamton plush out of the box first, turning it over in his hands curiously. ] It's that... Creature from earlier. [ He shows the swatchling it- feeling just a little bad that they're just standing there in the water - and gained a soft squeal from them. ]

Hm. You're right. [ he faced the plush back to himself. ] It is kind of.. Cute. [ there's the faintest hint of a sly smile on his face. ]

(continuation under the cut to spare your dash length :P)

[ He gently wedges the plush into the front of his suit, neatly nestling it next to his tie so he could continue rummaging through the box. ]

[ the cutout is.. interesting. he snorts as he beholds it. ] What a strange little critter! Do people really like this? Enough to make a cutout..? Hm!

[ he thrusts it into the free hand of the addison standing next to him. ] You go put that in the recording studio for me, won't you? [ the addison was about to protest before getting cut off by a light pat to the head. they stand there for a few quiet seconds before leaving the two to do their given task, mumbling something under their breath. ]

[ He seems to light up seeing the TV dinners. ] Oh, I've missed these!! I haven't had these in ages -- [ he glanced to the swatchling. ] -- not that I DON'T like the food you swatchlings make for me, trust me! It's just novelty...

[ and then chocolate and the mushroom growing kit. he furrows his 'brows' at the kit as he takes the bag of chocolate and puts it in his coat pocket. ]

What an interesting package! Almost felt like one of those loot boxes the kids talk about nowadays.. [ he carefully repackages the box. ] The kitchens cleared off by now, isn't it? Go put these things in there for me, dear! I'm sure you swatchlings can figure out SOMETHING to do with a mushroom kit! I'm not against mushrooms in my rice after all...

[ as the swatchling scampers off, The Host quietly stands there. He takes the plush out of his coat to look it over again. As he gives it a little squeeze and listens to what it says - 'nows your chance to be a big shot'. ]

A big shot, huh? That'd be nice.

[ he steps over the ring of rice he stood in, stepping into the flooding water. even though its receded it still rushed pass his ankles - or it would've, if not for the spell the DropletStickr gave him. ]

[ the water pleasantly fizzles away as Host makes his way through the mansion, staring at the plush as he walks. He looked almost enamoured by it... ]

[ he reaches a hallway untouched by the water. there's a large door with golden flourishes and the outline of a TV in the middle -- though he simply pushes it open with his shoulder and wandered inside. ]

[ it's dark. The raycast of Host's screen drenched the room in a warm glow as he approached a bed in the middle of it all, taking a seat on the pink sheets. ]

[ the sound of rushing water doesn't reach here. he stares at the plush in his lap as only the faint noise of static left his speakers, lost in thought. ]

[ ... ]

[host-of-your-screen]

All I was doing was walking around my mansion, trying to find the source of a flood.. One doorway, it's my place, and the next... It's here!

[ He chews on one of his gloved fingers. (he can do that??) ]

And who knows what Chariot -- No, you called her.. Queen?- what she'd do!! Well, she probably wouldn't care... But I don't want to get kicked out of what's supposed to be my own house! I've lived here, what.. Five years now?

What am I SUPPOSED to do, just, sit around and wait till I get randomly teleported back home?! How long is THAT going to take??

[ he isn't panicking, but he still seems stressed. quite understandable in this situation. ]

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

tagged any previous part of the chain as #REPEAT SHOW! so you can filter that and only see the latest ^_^ ]]

[host-of-your-screen]

[ The Host tensed at the name. ]

Nobody -- nobody calls me that anymore. It's just... "Host". Don't wear it out! [ he says it with a friendly tone, but his expression shows something more perturbed. ]

[ He relaxed quickly, though, instead focusing on the rest of what Bowie said. He weakly scoffed. ]

Quickly lost interest, huh? Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that... [ he sighs. ]

No, no, it's fine. [ he waved a hand dismissively. ] Not like I MEANT to be here! Though I'm not sure how I'm going to get back to my mansion...Or how long I'll be here... Or what I'll do if I can't get back..!

[ His tone gets progressively shaky as he speaks, seeming a bit stressed out about the situation. He's picking at the edges of the stickers on his casing, which seem to have quite a bit of wear and tear from repeats of this action.. ]

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

haiiii, mr "lord of the screens" how old are you?need to know for a friend.

I'll have you know I'm in my prime time! Just because I've got a few scratches, it doesn't mean I'm old! Look at me! No burn-in, smudges, or cracks! (I'm before your reduction technology for burn in, at least...)

[The Host gestures to an old Print Club photo booth. It's somehow.. Untouched by the flood.]

However, you and your 'friend' can gladly take photos over there! I'm sure you'll enjoy the merchandise!

[host-of-your-screen]

Oh dear!! Looks like you need a helping hand, hm? Where did all of this water come from anyhow...

[The Butterfly has brought a few mops and buckets! In the buckets are some other cleaning supplies, soaps, sponges, gloves, etc. Maybe a few buckets themselves would have been a better idea...]

Well, everyone, a start has to come along at some point! Here's my due diligence!

[She happily takes up arms with a mop as her weapon, and carefully sets the collection of supplies in Host's rice circle.]

- @butterflys-blessing

Oh, finally! I was wondering when someone would call a janitor.. I mean -- [ The Host let out an awkward noise. ] not that I'm presuming that's who you are, but your help is appreciated regardless!!

[ he steps back a little to give her more space. even with the ability to clear water where he stood, that didn't mean there wasn't plenty of area wrecked by the flooding.. Not to mention the poor carpet. ]

I'm TRYING to figure out where this flooding is coming from!! One of the swatchlings said it might be from one of the higher floors, but it's not exactly easy to get to when all the stairs are full of RUSHING water!! Why, there's water pouring from my STATUE even!!

[ he makes some flailing motions before looking at the clipboard in his hands, frowning at the layout he was making. hardly even a quarter of this floor was cut off from the flood, and this was only the second floor! ]

[ some swatchlings come to the Butterflies aid, beginning to go through the supplies to get properly geared up to help. Don't they look spiffy! ]

[host-of-your-screen]

[ The Host quietly stares as Bowie talks, an expression creeping onto his screen as he wrings his gloved hands together idly. ]

I -- ... I.. [ he opens his 'mouth' a few times as he attempted to make hand motions - but nothing left his speakers. his smile falls flat. ] I don't.. Know. [ he looks to the table. ]

I mean, is that even me at that point? What made me was my past, but -- if he... [ he mulled over his thoughts. ] stayed.. I guess.. I'd be jealous? Or... [ he fully frown, finally. ] I guess pity him.. I left for a reason...

[ he was quiet for a second. he looked around again, taking in the details of the building. his fingers twitched against the back of his hand that he now clutched. ]

Did this one... Even meet her? [ he said after a bit more quiet, his voice low. ]

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

[Amongst the chaos that’s occurring a funky little cat with microphones for paws shows up out of seemingly nowhere, offering to help with the flooding problem.]

[…Or atleast you assume thats what it was offering, he was fully mute outside the occasional saxophone sound. Regardless, after temporarily getting distracted by chasing a soggy maus, the feline decided to help the flooding by simply licking up the water.]

[…This was going to take awhile…]

-🎶🐱

[ The host watches with a baffled expression from where he stood behind a small ring of rice bags, watching as this complete stranger lapped at the flood water. the addison with their phone out -- who was at this point just following after The host like a lost duckling -- had an equally puzzled expression. ]

... okay.

should we really let him do that? isn't that a little.. unsanitary? [ the addison whispers to Host. ]

[ the host continues to watch pluey for a few seconds. ]

yeah i... i think he'll be fine...

[ *the water level has been lowered! ]

[host-of-your-screen]

forbidden lore while i try to not die of heatstroke : host is like 1010 from nsr to me but just the one guy. one man boy band ]]

its so hot. im gonna get to stuff im just so hot rn please save me ]]

[host-of-your-screen]

its so hot. im gonna get to stuff im just so hot rn please save me ]]

[host-of-your-screen]

[ He trudges after Bowie, hunched over as he walks. As they walk, The Host grows ever so slightly smaller - until he's a bit more averagely sized compared to Bowie. His antenna are drooped forward. ]

[ ... he didn't seem to really listen to Bowie's comment about her, but he sits regardless. ]

Not particularly!! The Holidays always preferred their Hallmark films. Though Noelle liked to watch horror movies when her parents weren't home... Not a lot of Scifi!

[ he makes some idle hand movements as he speaks, seeming a bit more animated than before. ]

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

[ The Host ever so slightly shrinks at the response ever. He takes a second to think over what Bowie is saying before his expression grew nervous. ]

I don't remember falling asleep, but this is the worst dream to be shilled with right now...

People who look like others I used to know, SHES back here, it's like-like nothing ever changed!!

[ He snaps back to focus as it dawns on him that he's clutching the sides of his face mumbling words under his breath to this stranger -- maybe this dream just had it out to embarrass him. or maybe his circuits are frying from all the water in his mansion that he probably fell asleep in. ]

Uh...

I mean..

Sure, why the hell not!! [ he removes his hands from his screen with a slightly more unhinged tone to his voice. ]

I have to make this nightmare end SOMEhow!!!!

[ doesn't look like hes taking it too seriously.. or too well. ]

[ a lanky flatscreen TV mosies their way through one of the many doors in Queen's palace, focus set on a clipboard in their hand. As they look around the room, they mumble. ]

Well, at least this area isn't flooded...

[ their gaze sweeps the room inquisitively before suddenly landing on Bowie -- and their body swiftly tenses as they pull the clipboard closer to their face. ]

I thought you --

[ a pause. he stares for a moment before his shoulders relax. ]

Oh, you just -- [ he clears his throat. ] Ah, my deepest apologies!! [ he's finally speaking in a normal tone level - or moreso a bit above an inside voice. ] Seems I mistook you for someone else!

[ he 'squints', the black and white of his screen scrunching into the center to imply such. ]

Though I don't recognize you, which is.. Odd.. Because I don't remember hiring anyone new!!

[ he looks to the walls as he speaks, a hand on his 'chin'. a... look crosses his face as he takes in the color of the walls. ]

I thought I painted these walls when she moved out..?

[ he clears his throat again as he tries to focus on Bowie instead. ]

Wait, what are you doing in here anyway? I thought I told all of the addisons to come help with setting up the stream before the studio flooded! Are you... Slacking off? [ while hes still smiling, there's a tone to his voice that's less than cheery. ]

[ who even is this guy...? ]

[ @host-of-your-screen ]

Bowie, having now had a bit of experience with the multiverse- still thinking about some... things- only sighs when he hears the upcoming footsteps and the voice reveals it's not Tasque Manager.

He turns around, meets the TV's- TV, TV, why is it always TVs- gaze, eyes half lidded and tired, but not physically.

I live here, sir. My room is just down the hall, and I don't work in that department. I run a company called...

His bravado seems to taper off the more he talks, looking up at the screen, that smile, and seeing someone far more earnestly cheerful in his place. Someone far more 'outdated'.

Someone who ran away.

He swallows.

...I don't think you're in the right castle, sir.

He'll keep the ramblings to himself, in his mind. This isn't the time for that.

My name is Spamton G. Spamton... what's your name?

He has a hunch. Maybe. Not yet.

[host-of-your-screen]

(mod of bowie blog ignore the possible ghost notif i thought my post got eated but its fine . use the more recent reblog pleas,,)

o7 yessir ]]