001 | (this is so not what she) texted

[cowardley]

[ hey, look, it's a picture of a brightly colored phallic fruit from Sorrow's orchard.  it's laid out  on a cutting board next to a second brightly colored phallic fruit that has been cut into, and clearly chewed up and spit out.  next, is a selfie of ashley, her nose wrinkled in disgust. ]

The only room this 'fruit' could possibly be used in is the bedroom!!!  
Y U C K

[ and several minutes after the post occurs, out in hadriel, in the ud house, ashley screams in horror. that was not at all what she wrote. someone save her. call ghostbusters! burn the phone!  oh god, or maybe just kill her! ]

Comments

text; 1/2

[verinumeri]

c0ck 700l5 pu7 chl0r1n3 1n r3c0rd p00l5
4r3 7h3r3 4ny0n3 l1k3 y4 (h3ll n4w!!)
1 7r347 hum4n5 l1k3 57ud3n75 (f41l y'4ll)

[verinumeri]

[ When he sees what's gone through, Hermann almost has a heart attack, and slaps at the phone for ten seconds in a panicked spasm before he can get a video going.

It has this filter, which is especially unfortunate given how big his mouth already is, but-- ]

I apologize! I don't, I don't even know what that means!

[ ...well, he can read the leetspea, but he doesn't know the content. ]

[cowardley]

[ Ashley squints at the first text, finding it strangely difficult to figure out as 1337 speak has always been such a stupid form of communication, but she understands bits and pieces and is that.... is that rap lyrics?

but then his video reply comes in, and wow is that a change. She smiles, maybe a little too widely, which is oddly terrifying given the filter she currently has on. ]

It's uhm, I think they might be... lyrics? [ but, uhm, she's really not 100% sure. ] It kind of seems like we're all texting each other the weirdest of things.

[verinumeri]

[ Not having made much use of such applications and their features, while Hermann can recognize a photo lens, the variety continues to surprise him. So he doesn't expect all those teeth, and blinks, but it's a nice smile otherwise. ]

Oh, why not, lyrics, yes. [ The aggravated huff. ] It shouldn't be possible. There's no evidence of it in any of the code. It's got to be a god.

[ Which means Miss Rage. Who else? ]

[cowardley]

[ It'd be nicer if there had been just one smile, not three, and the filter continues on. She frowns. ]

To be honest, any time something weird happens, I kind of automatically assume it's a god. [ though there's always a chance someone got in and messed with something, but if he says there's no evidence in the code, then he's right, probably god. ]

If we really wanted not to be bothered by this, we could all just stop using our phones for the duration of all this. [ when it's not aggravating. ]

[verinumeri]

[ Looking ridiculous, while a strain on his professional pride (as if there's a profession for which to be professional), is a grudgingly acceptable compromise for the message otherwise transmitting without issue.

Grudgingly. ]

I'd say she's opted for a rather ridiculous, petty tactic this time, but I've heard enough to prefer this to a serious effort on her part.

[ Less grudgingly. Comparing glitching phones to cannibalism and murder sprees exposes the obvious: there is no comparison.

It's only him, really. Rooted in her very suggestion, because what it amounts to isn't a surprising conclusion, but one that makes the already dubious utility of his efforts to date even more negligible: ]

Yes, the only way to guarantee escaping consternation. It's a useful reminder, I suppose, that they gave us the phones. Anything on them, any part of them, could be compromised at any time.

[cowardley]

Yeah, you really don't want serious. [ a couple of phone glitches, although incredibly embarrassing for someone her age, are nothing compared to losing her friends to a wendigo, or sudden, inexplicable rage at strangers. ]

...And now I want to write down all the notes I've taken on the phone just to make sure I don't accidentally lose them thanks to a magical godly glitch.