🗡️ inbox

[rudelanguage]

ANTIGONE INBOX: username ANTIGONEIGUESS
PENDING INBOX: username ITSPENDING
KNIFE INBOX: nonexistent (for now)

Comments

hard being the janitor to ur own shitshow

[rudelanguage]

[the response is stilted, unnerved, and more sedate than what came before; that's what a big skip from unresolved feelings gets u in this house!]

Uh.

I...

[takes a sec to figure out the link thing.

she utters a pained noise.

that is...so much fucking text to have read to her.]

I'll...get to it. Later. I guess.

qq's entire life tbh

[querulus]

[Oof.

That's it. Just oof.

Yeah yeah no it's fine we're cool sometimes you just traumadump on the extremely nervy pink fox you're trying to befriend while having a nervous breakdown because you're hilariously bad at basic social skills. All good, everybody has those days. Hahahahaha..............

Unrelated side note: something's... off about Antigone's reaction. Aside from just, you know. The usual.]

Do you... Uh.

[He recalls the switch from text to voice and his "typing with little paws" comment. And the "she's not on the network" thing. He'd thought it was just a whole recluse thing, but what if...? Well, he's sure as shit not gonna ask if she can't read, not after he's fucked up as bad as he has.]

Is the link, you know. Busted or something? I mean. I can give you like... a summary or whatever. If it doesn't work.

[Stunning, 10/10 performance, no notes.]

[rudelanguage]

It's not busted. It's there.

[Knife is. reading-wise. but making that a spoken fact isn't going to feel really great, especially to some guy who can apparently just know everything ever just being in the right proximity.]

[querulus]

[BIG SIGH...]

Kinda was hoping you'd take the free excuse. Like "oh yeah, your link is totally busted, idiot, how about you tell me your dumb post so I don't have to...." You know. Finish this fucking sentence or whatever.

[Nailed it.]

Look, the whole thing's basically an FAQ with a big fat "my b" at the top. Shockingly, dramatic acts of rampant self-destruction aren't exactly uncommon for me, and now I'm eating crow. Sucks ass, but hey, such is life.

So what are your questions?

[rudelanguage]

[around "finish this fucking sentence," she starts cutting in, louder and sharper if she needs to for him to:] Stop, stopstopstopstopstop. Stooooop.

Stop.

[...

did he do it? did he stop?

she exhales.]

Just. Leave it. I'll figure it out later.

[querulus]

[Quentin is a chronic yapper, so it takes her getting a little loud for him to stop. But hey, at least he does stop. He cuts himself off abruptly, pauses, and there's the sound of him breathing out harshly through his nose.]

I—... Okay.

[Wow, swing and a miss, Quire. GG. As much as he'd love to blame that stupid computer for this mess, that's not really true, is it? Nope. He's broken, not that dumb machine. Sigh. Well, nothing to do but pick up the pieces and move on.

In any case, he does leave it, as requested.]

[rudelanguage]

[relieved:] Great.

[...

less relief:] How...long do I have?

[querulus]

[Tmw u were gonna go stew in self-loathing and nobody likes u etc etc bc the weirdo ur trying to befriend very badly told u to shut up except then they come back shortly afterward??

Quentin sounds a tiny bit surprised that Antigone said something.]

I dunno. How long do you want?

[rudelanguage]

[weakly wry:] What, like it's my call? Aren't you all clawing up the walls about this?

[querulus]

Yeah, well, I wanted to hurry up and get it done, because what's the point in all the hand-wringing, you know? Oh, sure, we could stand around talking about what's on the spooky bone computer and what if it's terrible and blah blah blah. Or we fucking do it, and then whether it's good or bad or a nothingburger, at least we know. Debating it is just a way for slow, small-minded people to make themselves feel important and like they're making choices here when the crushing reality is whoever's in charge has got us by the short and curlies from the second we arrive. Choice is an illusion, we're all stooges here, may as well play the game and actually learn some shit.

But I've been told that approach comes off as "reckless" and "insensitive to people's feelings", so... Yeah, it's your call.

[That last statement is actually not him being sarcastic.]

For what it's worth, you're not the only hold out.

[rudelanguage]

[she laughs grimly for a bit, petering off with a miserable note.]

Haaa. Fuck.

[querulus]

Oh, and uh. No pressure or anything. Seriously. I know I... talk like this, but it's kinda baked in at this point. Is what it is.

Look, worst case, I'll tell everyone you told me something, make some shit up, and when it's wrong I'll say the computer's busted or whatever. Hell, there's a half decent chance the thing will tell me the answers are wrong no matter what just for rage bait.

[rudelanguage]

Ha. Haha. [she sighs.] No pressure. Right.

[figures that an instance where Knife is needed for more than killing or stealing in this joint is for something they can only sort of remember and can definitely not spell.

cosmic butt of a cosmic joke.]

[querulus]

[Meanwhile Quentin is dead certain he knows what state Scott Summers was born in because he hasn't realized the versions in Etraya are from Ohio and not Alaska, but that's a surprise for later.]

Yeah. No pressure. What's that reaction about?

[rudelanguage]

Ehhhh. Just-- [nnnnnrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Just... Thinking.

[querulus]

Okay... [UNSURE...]

You, uh. You need a minute?

[rudelanguage]

Y-yeah. It's...my surname? Like--like a family name, right? Like...Antigone whatever-ever?

[querulus]

That's what the question says, yeah. "What is Antigone's surname," that exact wording.

Why?

[rudelanguage]

It just.

[I'm not Antigone.]

I dunno. It-- [I don't know how to spell her name.]

It-it kinda seems...like a trick, y'know? What if...the answer is to not answer?

[she hesitates, then makes an unhappy sound.] That's...all that talking about nothing though. So whatever. I'll shut up about it.

[querulus]

Wait, no, go back. Why's it seem like a trick? To you specifically.

'Cause see, I've been looking at this shit, you know. A lot. And I've been thinking, why are some of these questions "who is so-and-so's relative" and others are "what's the name of so-and-so's relative"? And then outta nowhere some asshole gets "what's the name of your favorite father"? For one thing, hella subjective, but also? Uh, hello? Drama alert? Not to mention half the freaks on the list got triggered as hell when I asked them for some goddamn reason.

Talk to me. Whaddya got?

[rudelanguage]

Ye-yeah! I mean! Like... How's this crusty machine gonna know everything about everyone and know which...which things to pick that make people prickle? Y'know? Like--I don't. I don't computer, okay? So it sounds more like some fuck--stupid...crummy old wizard or whatever just...heckling people to get his jollies.

If the thing's so old, wouldn't it like. Not know? Those things? Is it just guessing?

[querulus]

It's not—okay, well. Not to incriminate myself or whatever, but I know my fair share about computers and security systems and perhaps I've dabbled in, you know. A skosh of cyber security bypassing. For fun, of course.

Point is, security questions like these are meant to verify the identity of the user by being shit known only to the person who set them up. Like, uh. A key to a safe, yeah? You have the key, and unless somebody copies that key they can't get into your prized stamp collection. Except information? That's a key you can copy. Pretty easily if you're any good at social engineering. Or, you know. Are an amazing, gifted, talented telepath. Not to toot my own horn.

So what do you do when you wanna keep your shit protected from little weasels like me? You bend the rules. Make the phrasing a little funny, make some answers squishy. Who's Nero's dad? "Vergil"? Or "Dante's brother"? Both answer the question. You picking up what I'm putting down?

[rudelanguage]

Crummy old wizard shit! [that's all that sums up to her as.]

[querulus]

Yeah! Wait, hang on, is that... Are you agreeing with me? Or are you confused or...? You gotta give me a little more here.

[rudelanguage]

I'm just saying...you can dress it up with all your computery stuff, but it is what it is. And I guess it's ultimately just bullshit. So the answer to my surname is bullshit!