indie maxie/matsubusa rp blog. follows back from blue-orb
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Statistics
We looked inside some of the posts by magmaredorb and here's what we found interesting.
Average Info
Notes Per Post
6
Likes Per Post
6
Reblog Per Post
0
Reply Per Post
0
Time Between Posts
16 days
Number of Posts By Type
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17
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
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"Oh, stop whining and let me take this sample. You wouldn't get in the way of humanity's survival for the mere legalities of soil ownership, would you?"
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"You hate me for my success."
#text#i come back and someone reblogged a post with a tag full of 'fuck you'??????#i am very confused
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"Have you ever heard of wing gyoza?"
"It's dumpling filling stuffed into a bird wing and then grilled."
"It's also absolutely fantastic."
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"We're all solar powered, you know. Vitamin D and all that."
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"I'm allowed to want to slam someone's head into the nearest pole."
"That's perfectly valid."
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"The joke of the day is that I haven't had a good argument in weeks and it's severely impacting my capacity to work."
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Cyrus keeps re-wrapping his little bead bracelet on.
He's too tired to ask why.
Not that he'd ever get a response. He's never been privy to the boy's voice, if it exists.
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There's a blob of smoke, white fur, blankets, and visible despair in the corner. Figuratively. He's not able to blob anymore literally.
Guess someone moved up a degree in the Stages of Grief.
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Big, white paws bound in.
He's been allowed another Pokémon. This is an experiment, he's sure, but he'll take it.
He misses Cami.
But Angel's nice too. All purring and clambering onto his lap, despite her size.
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His ring finger hurts.
But he doesn't want to slide his ring off.
He might lose it.
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He hasn't felt well in the last few days.
It's... been a long time since his medications haven't been able to squash all of his anxieties.
And the exhaustion is awful.
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"What's with the pacing?" The Maxie on the physical plane asks.
"Nothing." The other snaps, wiping his mouth of wine, reflected in the TV. "Just idiots bothering me."
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He hasn't really spoken to anyone lately.
The only person in his container is little Cyrus, who never speaks.
Maybe he's lonely.
Never been that before.
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Something stings.
He scratches where he thinks it is, but it keeps moving. It just gets bigger and bigger until his whole body feels like something's nibbling at him.
He's tired.
But he has work to do.
Still the stinging burns.
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"No, I don't think I need a reservation. You have room."
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No, Courtney's not going to tell her adoptive father that she moved in with May, Brendan, and Wally.
He would not approve.
And honestly, roommates are the only way to afford New Mauville homes.
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