i know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder [ OPEN MINGLE ]

[postictal]

Who: Tim and EVERYBODY WHO WANTS IN ON THIS CAUSE IT A MINGLE
What: Nail-painting. Destressing. We have earned something Nice for ourselves.
When: February 12th
Where: Just outside the Storyteller's Temple
Warnings: Probably nothing of note? Will add if needed.



There's a man sitting cross-legged outside the Storyteller's Temple, general hub of interaction that it seems to be turning into. He still looks like shit, granted, his face a colorful patchwork of bruising and a fresh bandage slapped around his middle, but that hasn't stopped him from making the best of things. A few vials of some various colorful fluids might not be familiar to everyone here, but after everything? Screw it, thinks Tim. They've deserved a break. He deserves a break. The kids here, especially, deserve a break. It's time to celebrate the fact that they are no longer in danger of freezing in the dark and living out the remainder of their days in a bleak, sunless existence.

And he liked colors, as a kid. In the blank white walls of a hospital, where everything was drained of variation and bleached white and left bone-blank, the occasional bursts of color allowed in packages of crayons and colored pencils at art time were treasures. They stopped giving him crayons after he drew the man in his room one too many times, a tall black shadow in the back of every drawing that had the doctors exchanging looks with tightened jaws and the clearing of throats that too clearly spoke to their disapproval.

It dogged him, even once he stepped out of those empty walls, his wardrobe as consistently drab and dull and monochrome as his life. It dogged him with featureless rooms and

Fuck that.

Fuck that especially, because it means that kids like Ren grew up without colors in their lives, and it means that they've had precious few simple little pleasures in the past month, and it means that they are all owed a goddamn break. And if he's bound to be a freak no matter what he does, he may as well be one with a spot of color or two.

So today, to celebrate? We're painting nails.

Fuck it. We're painting nails.

It's safe to say that Tim's new at this, particularly when he only has one good hand at the moment, but he'll still seem quite open to sharing with whoever happens along - especially if you're a kid.

[ooc: yes this is a mingle for painting some nails feel free to top-level all over]

Comments

[prettypurpleparlor]

From what I understand, elemental magic is one of those things one tends to have or not have a natural talent for- a bit like the way some people have a natural talent for singing but others can't carry a tune in a bucket. One can refine one's talent with practice, but the time and effort may not always be best spent there.

People tend to have an affinity for a particular element- fire or water or air, and so on- and might not have much of a knack for elemental magic in general. I can do a little bit of earth magic, but it was never much, and I've no skill with fire magic at all. Focusing on purple magic made more sense, since it came more naturally to me.

[Hence why she keeps using a flint and tinder set to make cooking fires, instead of starting them magically.]

[souris_keteer]

[Mickey frowns as he listens to this. Since he took to fire magic so easily, does that mean he won't be able to learn anything else? He sure hopes not.]

Well... at the very least, purple does seem to suit you. I mean, gosh, you're purple from head to toe and everywhere in-between!

[prettypurpleparlor]

[She giggles cheerfully.]

That was rather fortunate, wasn't it? Imagine if I'd been born with a talent for orange magic, instead- I'd clash terribly.

[Gotta keep up that aesthetic.]

[souris_keteer]

Don't you mean... orange you glad you're purple?

[Rimshot. Also, my apologies.]

[prettypurpleparlor]

Oh dear.

[She's trying to look stern, but she can't quite suppress the urge to laugh. It makes her feel vaguely nostalgic about Sans, honestly. She hopes he finally made it home, in the end.]

Yes, I suppose if I had to go around being mismatched all the time I'd feel quite blue.

[souris_keteer]

[If you don't stop him, he's only going to keep at it.]

You might even be red in the face!

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Come on, how could she say no to that face? Besides, she's a little too competitive to let the opportunity go past, even if it's ridiculous.]

I imagine I'd look at my more well-coordinated friends and be green with envy.

[souris_keteer]

It could be worse, you could be yellow-bellied!

[Somewhere Sans sheds a tear of pride.]

[prettypurpleparlor]

Still, I think things are just good as gold the way they are.

[This one's for you, skelepun man.]