voice; open to everyone

[billionboy]

OH, SHIT, CAESAR-- [ The voice sounds panicked since he is accesses the telepathy first to get obviously Caesar's attention before -- ] FUCK -- shit -- rocks! Ah! That hur-- ow! How long is -- goddamn hill! Ack! Ow-ow-ow-- shitfuckass!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

...Oof.

[ Long pause, muffled. ] I tripped.

Comments

[girasole]

It'll be fine. There's someone who can summon refrigerators with a wave of his hand. I'm sure there's someone who has magical pants-mending powers, or, if not, that we can think of something to fix them.

[billionboy]

Sure, sure...

I can't believe I rolled all the way down a hill. How lame. I guess it's because I'm just too street punk for this nature stuff.

[girasole]

[Oh my god. Did he just call himself a punk? Did he? He totally did. This is someone Caesar totally knows he would've pushed around five years ago, and he's calling himself a street punk sweet innocence this is why he worries about you.]

That's not a bad thing.

[billionboy]

Ya think?

[ Well. ]

Guess so. I'll be good for other stuff. Though, I don't think the boars are too easily intimidated by me. Maybe the crabs...