korpuskat
"I don't know, it just doesn't have any substance, any, like, spirit."
"Tim, it looks fine."
"No, it doesn't, why would I want to go out like this?"
"Tim, really, you look fine. You're over thinking this."
"How am I over thinking this? You've seen my hair, right?"
Tim was, by no means, a musician. He could appreciate music, sure, but had no interest in learning to sing or play instruments. It was just something he wasn't interested in! He didn't really know anyone that was into music, either. There was young virtuosos in the Facility, sure,
The ancient computer they originally gave him didn't last very long. An awfully old thing, something from like 2005, was Rylan's best guess. It was really too old, its fan was louder than the speakers and it was always too hot. It almost burned Rylan's skin once, when he'd fallen asleep with it on.
Mikki had read various articles on social media about disabled rockers- people with spiked jackets and canes. Someone else even made a zine about it.
On her particularly good days, Mikki would sometimes sit outside in Paradise. She couldn't play with the smaller kids, but it felt nice to have real sunshine on her skin. The green world was much brighter than she remembered, before she was sick.
Jade was always intelligent. His keeper knew this. He was reading sooner than her two other companions, actively seeking out books and information- taking easily to computers and gaming. He seemed to want to learn everything.
Tim normally hated the pointless little arts and crafts pieces the keepers put on the companions, too many people in such a cramped place-- and then nobody actually gave half a damn about what they were actually making or how it looked. But here he was, making a little plastic bracelet with even littler plastic beads of various colors.
Mikki was quickly approaching the age that other companions were allowed out and into the world. Little privileges weighted the most lately. She'd been bedridden again, and as far as she could tell, it was getting worse. None of the docs really wanted to tell her, but she could tell in the way they shifted around her and couldn't meet her eyes. They'd taken blood the day before, but whatever test they were running hadn't come back yet. By now it didn't really matter to her whether or not it was her DNA that caused her illness, or what exactly she had. Sure a name would be nice just so she could have something exact to blame her problems on- but it wasn't the point.
Mikki watched the nurse carry in a 6 pack of soda and head to the small breakroom around the corner. She thought bitterly that she might never get the chance to go grocery shopping.
Furfrou stared back at his keeper. She was mad, of course, she always was with him. Was that his fault that she was just so used to domestics? No, of course not. Furfrou huffed and ran his hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath. Samantha crossed her arms and covered her face with one hand, something she always seemed to do around Furfrou. He huffed again and rolled his eyes.
Samantha started talking but he only pretended to listen. He hated that she always made him out to be the instigator of everything that went wrong around him, like everything was his fault. No one else ever listened so why should he? Furfrou looked down at his feet, flexing his toes and watching the skin shift. It wasn't his fault. He didn't mean to.
Romance was, by far, not Furfrou's forte. In fact, he wasn't even very interested in it at all. He means, sure, if there was some guy interested in him than he'd certainly give it a try, but otherwise he wasn't really "looking" for it. Or anything else really.
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